


Holding On To You

by writing2savelives



Category: Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Abusive Parents, Cancer, Child Cancer, Cutting, Depression, Elena Is A Awesome Grandma, Emotional Sex, F/M, Franks Super Punk, Ger-z, Hickeys, High school love, Hospitals, Illegal Activities, Incest rape (father-daughter), Jamia Works At Hottopic, Lindsey Loves Art, M/M, Mentioned-Alcoholism, My Ship Name For Gee and Lyn-z, No Frerard, Oral Sex, Purely Physical Sex, Rape, Self-Harm, Set In 90s, Severe Bullying, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicidal Thoughts, This Sounds Really Depressing-But It Gets Better, This is a shipping fanfic, True Love, confused feelings, i love them, lots of, past parent death, there is smut, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7454920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing2savelives/pseuds/writing2savelives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The relationship between tormented and tormentor is a complicated one, especially for Lindsey and Gerard...</p>
<p>Lindsey is barely living anymore, holding onto the last thread of life as she tries to convince herself to stay alive. Between abusive parents, her relentless bully Gerard and her twisted mind, making it to 18 seems impossible.</p>
<p>Gerard, quarterback on the football team, bad boy of the school and personal hell for Lindsey, seems to have a perfect life. He gets away with anything he wants, not even the teachers daring to discipline him, but little does Lindsey know that everyone, especially Gerard, is fighting their own battles that you know nothing about. </p>
<p>Will they be able to learn to help each other or will their demons prove too toxic for a relationship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Should Take My Life, You Should Take My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This is my baby, I hope you like it. It's gonna be a long one. I've been working on it for a while now and I already have a few chapters so I will try to keep a constant schedule and post every Wednesday.

“LINDSEY!” My eyes fly open. “Lindseyyyy why aren’ttt you a-awake?! Get t-the FUCK out of my housssse!” My mom shouts at me, slurring her words. Great she’s still drunk from last night. I jump up now completely alert and run to the shower. Waiting for it to get hot I strip down and examine myself in the mirror. Fuck, I look like shit. Jagged scars litter my body, especially along my wrists and thighs. I stare angrily at my fat, ugly thighs and huge, gross hips. I don’t understand, my ribs are easily countable and my collarbone is very pronounced along with my sunken cheeks with high cheekbones, but I’m still unhappy. Just end it, the voices whisper, like he tells you, like the kids tell you. It would make everyone happier. The steam from the now hot shower clouds the mirror, so I step in.  


I scrub at yesterday’s cuts on my left thigh, washing away the dried blood. After, I hurriedly dress myself, grabbing a pair of tights that looks like it doesn’t have holes and yank on my short skirt. Pulling on a black long sleeved sweater, I throw on some eyeliner and my defining red lipstick, grab my very filled sketchbook and messenger bag before quickly existing the house as quietly as possible. Mom is passed out on the couch, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a picture of her and dad in the other. They are both super young in the photo; maybe 19, with grungy 90s clothes on. My father is groping her boob, funnily enough and she’s just grinning, probably high as always, letting him do whatever to her, as always. The thing is, as long as I’ve been alive he and her have always had contact with each other, actually, I don’t know if you can call sex having contact because they never actually talk, just fuck. I don’t understand it. He sleeps, fucks and abuses us, in this house. That’s all. He doesn’t eat here, or relax or do anything you would normally do in your own house, he just basically uses it as a resting pad. To stay alive he must sleep, which he does here, he fucks my mom, which he feels he needs to do to stay alive and abuses us to take out his anger. I brush my fingers across the bruise on my jaw from the last time I saw him, it was two days ago.  


Hitching my bag higher on my shoulder I slip out of the door. It’s six o’clock and winter so I’m fucking freezing in my thin tights, skirt, and thin, baggy sweater. It’s too early for school to start but I don’t want mom to wake up and find me in her house so just decide I’ll go early and draw on the steps while I wait. After the long, cold walk I settle under a tree that has a dry patch under it, outside of the school. It’s six forty-five now; just a little longer. After several attempts at sketching, I admit defeat against the frigid December air; my fingers just won’t move properly. Trying to stop my shivering I close my eyes and count the seconds…  


RING, RING, RING! The bell jolts me from my nap. I scurry out from under the tree, earning a few stares and mutters from the gathering students. I keep my head down and practically run to my locker. All the sudden I crash to the ground, dropping my bag and sending my art supplies all over the floor.  
“Watch it, whore.”  
Gerard…shit. I’d hoped I could avoid him today. Scrambling to grab my stuff and not get stepped on by the passing, laughing students I stand up and continue to hurry down the hall, not once looking up and addressing Gerard.  
“See you soon, slut.” Gerard’s voice calls after me.  


~

My first four classes go slowly. I suck at school, so I take advantage of the heated air to thaw my fingers and then work on my new portrait. It’s a profile view of a boy. I’m not sure who yet, but it’s coming along nicely. The boy is obviously beautiful, with a thick brow, small almost feminine nose and small, thin mouth. I only have the outline of his face, but I’m excited to see what the detail will look like.  
When the bell finally goes, I rush out the door. Lunch, fuck. Well, I forgot to pack food, in my rush to leave the house and I don’t want to buy food since the cafeteria is a nightmare for a bullied girl like me, so I head to the bathroom.  
“Hey there, slut.” Oh, no…Gerard is leaning against the lockers, blocking my path. “How was class? Did you manage to fuck anybody’s life up as much as yours?” He asks smirking.  
I start to shake my head when a kid starts squeezing his way between us, muttering about us blocking his locker door. I take this opportunity to veer around Gerard and into the bathroom, locking the stall door behind me. I stand on the toilet seat and attempt to calm my breathing so as to not give myself away incase Gerard follows. Not seconds after I enter I hear Gerard’s heavy tread and hear the door fly open. What the fuck is he doing, following me into the girls washroom?  
“Lindsey,” his voice is dark and menacing, almost murderous sounding. “Get the fuck out here, Lindsey, or do I have to break down this stall door?”  
Shit! He’s found what stall I’m in. When I don’t answer he starts to shoulder the door. It creaks and I see a screw loosen. I whimper slightly when he continues this a few more times. It’s only a matter of seconds now…  
“Gerard!” I hear a high pitched flirty squeal. “What are you doing in the girls’ bathroom?” Gerard immediately stops and I hear him shuffle towards the door.  
“Nothing, ladies. Just looking for your gorgeous faces.” His dark tone is gone replaced with the one he uses when playing the popular high school jock that everyone wants to be friends with. Cool, charasmatic and sexy, that is the face he wears with those generic cheerleaders that pick on me as well.  
After they leave I climb down and just work on my sketch. My stomach growls while I’m working, but I ignore it.  


~

When the bell goes, I head to my three remaining classes. Art is fun, the teacher, Mrs. Tiger, liked my drawing. I decide to go to the New Jersey public library to work more on my drawing and homework, but I don’t make it down the steps before I feel a strong grip in my hair and someone dragging me around the back of the building. When I look up to see its Gerard, I start to whimper. His eyes are fiery, wild and mad. He throws me to the ground in an alleyway between the gym and main building. It’s usually where the smokers hang out, but they leave once they see Gerard. No one messes with him, especially when he preoccupied with me. Everyone knows he loves torturing me and no one ever does a thing.  
“So,” he crouches down beside me. “You never answered my question.”  
“W-what?” I croak. His hazel eyes bore into mine.  
“It seems that we’ve been quite interrupted today. How about we pick up where we left off, sound good?” He gives me a hard punch to the stomach. “I had asked you how your day was?” His smile scares me.  
“F-fuck…you!” I wheeze, clutching my hurt stomach.  
“Shut your mouth, you fuck-up.” His fist comes out, punching my eye and jaw. He hits exactly the spot that had a bruise from my dad and I hiss in pain.  
“You couldn’t fuck anybody’s life as bad as yours even if you tried. I can’t believe you’re still alive. I thought you’d have ended it by now, but you don’t even have the courage to end you miserable little life, you dumb slut.” Kick to my shin. “You’re even worse than I thought.” Finally he punches my nose, defiantly drawing blood.  
I’m writhing and whimpering in pain on the cold ground. After a minute, he’s still standing above me watching me with a satisfied grin, I manage to spit out, “You’re the only slut here. Fucking girls left and right. How’s the girlfriend, Gerard?” I don’t know where my courage to insult him comes from. Sometimes it helps me, most times not.  
“Oh, Lindsey…” He chuckles. “You really aren’t making things any better for yourself, you know.” He tone turns dark at the end and he gives my stomach another punch. I curl into a tight ball on my side curling around his foot which stood beside my chest. I recoil from his touch and begin to scoot backward away from him. He lets me out from under him before reaching forward, grabbing me by the neck of my shirt and slamming me into the wall. I crumble back to the ground.  
He gives me an agonizing kick to my back, I arch involuntarily and cry out in blind pain.  
“Don’t test me bitch.” His spit hits my cheek. “You’re a worthless, useless, talentless dumb fuck. I’ll be sure to remind you tomorrow and don’t you dare think of hiding in the bathroom again.”  
I lay on the ground waiting for him to leave, before slowly dragging myself to my feet. Pulling my hood low on my face and taking less busy streets, I stumble home.  


~

Gerard is right. Why don’t I just end it? No one in the world would miss me at all. I’m nothing…but I want to prove them wrong. I don’t care if I have to cut to make it by, I’ll do it. I will prove them all wrong. I will become a famous artist and everyone will know how hard I had it. They will hate the people who made me scar myself, who scared me themselves. I will tell everyone my story of how I was beat and broken again and again, but I still got up. I will show the world my wounds and they will help me heal them, right?  


The trip home takes way longer than usual, on account of my barely being able to walk and taking side roads. Nobody is home, thank God. No, I don’t believe in God, otherwise he would have helped me already. I rush upstairs to grab my razor. One for my drunken mother, for my stupid mistake of an escape from Gerard and my pathetic life. I add three for each of his hurtful words. Worthless-cut-useless-cut-talentless-cut. You’re a slut, whore, dumb fuck…  
After my second shower of the day, I dress my wounds and I pull out my sketch book, ignoring my homework. Bruises and cuts cover my jaw, eye and nose. I have a goose egg on my head from when he slammed me into the wall and my nonexistent stomach is littered with fresh cuts that run across the bruises he inflicted with his harsh kicks. My body aches and screams when I move, so I just decide to go to bed early. I do a lot of sleeping. Depressed people usually do.

~

When I wake at three in the morning, I am acutely aware that I haven’t eaten in a whole day. Deciding I’ll leave the house early to grab some food and avoid contact with my mom and dad, I gather my stuff and head to the open 24 hour convenience store a couple blocks away. The animalistic sounds of sex fill my ears when I open my door and I realize, my parents are fucking on the living room floor. Great. I’m good at being quiet though and I really need food. When passing the kitchen, I even manage to snag some change off of the table. I’m almost out the door without being noticed when I hear the angry, panting voice of my dad.  
“Lindsey!”  
I turn around sharply to face him. “What?”  
He doesn’t even stop what he’s doing; just continues pounding my mom into the floor and smirking at me. It’s sickening, but I know better than to ignore him.  
“Whatcha lookin’ at, sweetheart?” He voice is deviously sweet and pedophilic sounding. “You wanna join? Get in on some of the action, ya sweet little virgin?” My mom doesn’t make a sound, just little moans and groans from the sex  
I wrinkle my nose at his disgusting incestuous suggestion. “Ew, dad, I was just leaving…”  
“Or maybe you’re not a virgin…anybody at school finally got between those thick thighs a yours?”  
“FUCK YOU!” I scream.  
Suddenly he stops and I know I’ve made a big mistake. He pulls out of my mom and before I can do no more than back up, he’s smashed my head against the wall. I crumple to the ground in an all too familiar fashion.  
“What the fuck did you say to me?” He yells in my ear. His half hard cock is right in front of my eyes.  
“I-I said…f-f-fuck YOU!” What’s one more punch? I have a million and one already.  
Sure enough his fist comes out to smash my nose. Fuck! Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt!  
“Shut your pretty little mouth or I’ll beat you so bad you’ll sallow your own tongue.”  
“Baby,” my mom’s voice pleads. “C’mon, forget about her. You haven’t finished me yet.” She looks at me with hateful eyes as if I’m the cause for her shitty life. “Get the fuck out, Lindsey.” Her voice is menacing, but the reason I leave isn’t cause I’m scared, it’s cause I’m still starved. I’m not afraid of my dad, at least I tell myself, I’d stay and fight him because of my stupid death wish of a lip, but I need food.  
Slipping out from under my dad and out the door, I run all the way to the store. The dark night sky is somehow comforting, the bright twinkling stars that I’ll someday join…


	2. And Now That I Write and Think About It, and the Story Unfolds...

_Ring, Ring, Ring!_ The bell for lunch goes and I scurry out of Math. It’s been a week since the incident with my dad, not that there haven’t been more…he came home drunk one time and apparently I’m the perfect punching bag. Gerard had some fun with me after I stupidly ran away from him in the halls. His new favorite toy is…my hair! Oh goodie! At least he’s left my face alone a bit, but my dad made sure to cover that ground, not that I care about my appearance anymore since that’s definitely a lost cause.

I head to under the bleachers, where Gerard told me to meet him today, otherwise he’d break my ribs. When I arrive he’s not there, so I crawl as far as I can under and pull out my sketch book. I’m still working on that drawing of the boy, although I’m taking my time. It’s coming together really nicely and I don’t want to mess it up by my stupid haste. I’ve started bringing in the colour, right I’m focused on the eye. It’s big and beautiful with long, feminine lashes that almost reach his thick brow. I’m working on the color, it’s a beautiful hazel-green color that takes precision to get right.

Gerard is running very late, I’m over joyed! I really don’t get how Gerard does it. He’s like the classic, shallow high school jock except…different. He’s the star of the football team, all the boys respect him and all the girls want him. There’s nothing wrong with him; he’s confident, sporty, charismatic, good-looking, arrogant, and demanding. But, he manages to have all the attention and yet the teachers ignore him and his misbehavior. He smokes at school, bullies people at school, swears and skips classes. He wears the badass-don’t-mess-with-me and the perfect-grades-school-boy-football-star mask, at the _**same time!!!**_ But, I know his true face. He can spit and swear all he wants to make the girls giggle and swoon, but I know he’s only restraining himself from doing what he does to me. I’m his stress outlet. People know he bullies me, to a certain extent. ‘Oh, yeah, Lindsey? That fucked-up girl who Gerard throws a few punches at, yeah I know her. Who doesn’t? She’s Gerard play thing.’ A _few_ punches. If only they knew. I’m more than his play thing; I’m his rag doll. Since grade nine I’m there for him to make fun of and help him assert his power in front of students, for him to drag through the mud and wreck my clothes. I’m there for him to shout all the horrible names and insults at that he needs to let out. I’m his and he can do whatever he wants with me. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop fighting though, ‘til the day I die, I know my stupid death wish of a strong will, will  always be there to get in the last word and fuck things up for me even more. It’s only high school though, right? This won’t be my whole life; I’m going to be a famous artist, if I make it…

I’m too engrossed in drawing that I don’t hear Gerard approach. When I finally draw back to observe my work and blow away some of the lead dust, I notice him and jump, startled, I quickly close my book and stuff it in my shoulder bag.

“Gerard!”

“Lindsey…” He is a couple bleachers in front of me with his hands gripping the stair above and leaving forward. He grabs my arm and pulls me out from under the bleachers. I stumble but manage to keep my footing.

He stares at me for a second before I grow tired and break the silence. “What do you want?” I probably shouldn’t have snapped like that.

He raises an eyebrow at me then takes a step forward so he’s right in front of me looking down, anger in his eyes. “You’re rather confident today.”

When his arm draws back to punch, I turn and run. He catches me by my bag pulling it off my shoulder and spilling out all my books, my sketchbook among them. Dropping to the ground and forgetting about Gerard I scramble to save it from the muddy, wet grass. Not in time though; Gerard’s closer and he swiftly scoops it up and proceeds to flick through the pages.

I fly at him shouting, and clawing for it back. “You bastard! Give it back! That’s mine, you can’t look through that, STOP!” He just rolls his eyes and gives me a kick to my stomach sending me roughly to the ground in pain.

I’m whimpering and clutching my stomach, when I notice he stops on one page towards the back of the book. I watch helplessly as he studies it intently. His eyes change from shock, curiosity and then something else…admiration? He finally glances at me over the top of it, looking at me with confusion.

“Lindsey, what the fuck is this?! Why are you drawing this?!”

I stare at him with confusion. What drawing is he looking at?

He gets the message and turns the book around for me to see. It’s the half-finished drawing of the boy that I was working on. I look back at him and gasp. Shit!

Shakily I pull myself to me feet and take the book from him and start to examine it, my eyes flicking back and forth furiously between Gerard’s and the boy’s face. Or should I say, Gerard’s face and the drawing of Gerard’s face. Shit! I drew Gerard! Why the fuck would I do that? There’s no denying it now that I see them together. With the thick brow over piercing hazel eyes, a small, cute nose with a thin, pink slightly upturned on the right side mouth. Messy raven hair that falls perfectly, framing his high cheekbones and round face. He looks very beautiful, I suppose Gerard is.

Gerard’s real face is a mask of shock. His mouth is open, eyes wide, staring expectantly at me. I don’t know what to say so I just stare back. I touch the hair of Gerard in the picture and then hesitantly reach out to run my fingers through Gerard’s real hair. He doesn’t move, just closes his mouth and swallows. His eyes bore into mine, never looking away. Their hazel color is crystal clear, not clouded by anger or pain, they look almost naked in this vulnerable state. It’s beautiful. I don’t dare move away for fear of breaking the calm water between us.

He reaches out and takes the book from my hand, gently. My other hand is still in his hair, running softly through it. When he breaks eye contact to look down at the picture I’m almost sad. It’s still a puzzle for me as to why I drew him. Why didn’t I recognize it was him earlier? I’m so stupid.

After almost a minute of him looking at the picture, the glass shatters and I watch his eyes cloud up again. He looks up at me with anger and also…fear?

“Lindsey…” He voice is low and warning. I quickly remove my hand from his hair and take a step back. He chuckles a little. “You’re so obsessed with me that I’ve seeped into your sub conscious.” I gasp out as if his words cut like knives and take another step back as he advances slowly on me.

“Oh shut up. You love it when I hurt you. Secretly, you crave the pain, don’t you bitch? That’s why you drew me. You can’t stop thinking about me.” He kicks me in the stomach and I fall to the ground. Where is the Gerard that was here only a few minutes ago?

“You try to fight me and tell yourself that you hate it, but you love the bruises I give you. You wear them like a trophy and even when you’re so beat up you can barely move, I slip into you mind and you grab the pencil.” And with that, he waves goodbye as the bell rings for the afternoon. I hear a thud near my ear and after I recover enough to move I look to see it’s my sketchbook.

Slowly lifting myself up, I grab it franticly and run through the pages searching for one picture. I stop when I come close to the back and see the bit of paper still attached to the spiral from the page with the drawing of Gerard.

Why would he take it?

~

_My razor…_ I think, _my razor will know. It has all the answers. The power to silence my thoughts._ I’m not thinking rationally as I race home, completely disregarding my afternoon classes. My face and stomach ache with the pounding of my steps and beg for me to stop after the beating they took from Gerard. I, no doubt, have a black eye and bruised jaw. At least he left my hair alone today. But what’s aching more are my wrists and thighs. Thrumming with the want to be sliced. I can see the blood now as it leaks out of my veins and runs down my arms and legs staining the already stained 1960s vomit coloured carpet, **_satisfyingly_** _._

I am pleased to find the house empty of my wretched parents. I ignore the horrid smell of drugs, alcohol and sex that inhabit the house year round and make my way to my room upstairs.

I watch, pleased, as the blood from the long thin cut on my wrist bleeds. Sighing happily, I lay down, feeling drowsy. I pressed a little hard today; maybe this is the end…do I care?

When black clouds my vision I close my eyes…

~

“Lindsey! FUCK. Wake up, god dammit!” Something is shaking my arm. Ugh! I don’t want to wake up.

“Leave me alone.” I murmur, rolling onto my stomach.

“Lindsey, please.” I hear my mom fall to her knees beside me. She places a soft hand on my back. “Lindsey, please. Look, I’m sorry. Come here sweetheart.” She rolls me over into her lap. I’m too shocked by her tender behavior to move. She caringly strokes my cheek and brushes away my hair.

“Oh, honey. All these bruises…are you getting bullied?” I snort and squirm away, having the pleasant mirage of a caring mother suddenly broken by her stupid question.

“Am I bullied?” I scoff. “Yes, I am bullied by many kids at school,” I motion to my beat up face, “I am abused by dad and _you_ ,” I signal my bruised black ribs, “and I hurt myself,” I show her my wrist with the fresh long cut. It’s still bleeding a bit.

She looks at me with wide eyes before answering. “Come here, let’s get you cleaned up.” She makes grabby hands at me but I recoil.

“No! What do you really want?” She’s got an ulterior motive, I know it.

“Nothing Lindsey. Just let me help clean you up and then…I just want to talk to you.” I raise an eyebrow as a question. “It’s about your father.”

_What? My father?_ She pulls me up and into the bathroom, setting to work on cleaning and dressing some of my wounds. It’s only been a few minutes when I hear the front door open and then slam close accompanied by the slurred angry undeniable voice of my father.

“Kathrrrrrine? Lindseyyyyy? I’m home, honey…where ‘re you guys? Come and see your dadddddy…” Our eyes widen with fear. Drunk, angry and looking for us. That’s never good. My mom rushes to close and lock the bathroom door and signals for me to be quiet.

“I can hear youuuu…Upstairs? The bathroom? I won’ttt hurt you…”

Mom starts talking quietly to me. “Listen,” She pulls me into her arms. “The thing I wanted to talk to you about, it’s bad…it seems…your father he…um…well…”

“Mom! Spit it out!” I whisper yell.

She takes a deep breath. “Well, your father has mentioned to me now a couple times about how he, um, wants to…have sex with you.”

_What? No! That’s wrong and bad and he hurts me and…NO!_

“Shhhh, Lindsey, it’s okay. I won’t let him.” She tries to calm me down.

“Come out, come out wherever you arrrre! I want tttttto see myyyyyy beautiful womennnnnn.” My dad’s voice is on the stairs now.

My mom picks me up and settles us back down in the tub, as far away from the door as possible. We are both shaking with fear and anticipation. We both know the door won’t hold if my angry 180 pound drunk father wants in.

“Lindsey, Lindsey! Look at me.” My mom is trying to get me to look at her. “Shhhh, sweetie. He’s just upset, I won’t let him do anything different to you.”

This only angers me. Notice how she said, anything _different_ , in other words, I won’t let him rape you but you’re probably still gonna get a few punches. Great.

“C’mon girls,” the door handle jiggles. “Oh, you want to play it like that…” We hear a loud thud. He’s trying to break down the door. Shit.

My mom flies from the tub to stand in front of me and shouts, “Go away Tom! Just leave us alone!”

The pounding stops for a second, before recommencing. “Oh, come on, my sweet girls. I just want to see you…”

“No, Tom! Lindsey is…hurt, okay? Just leave us be.” My mom sounds fierce and I almost feel protected, almost.

“Lindsey! Oh, no! Come here baby. Let me help you if you’re hurt.” My father’s voice is thick with mock interest.

My mother looks back at my scared face. I’m huddled in the tub, cradling my hurt arm. God, I’m pathetic.

“Fuck you, Tom! Just go fuck one of your stupid whores and leave Lindsey ALONE!” Damn…

“Now, Katherine, I don’t think that is the right way to talk to me…” His voice grows with anger and finally the door flies open. He comes barreling in and before anyone even has time to react, he’s slapped my mom hard across the face.

“That’ll teach you a lesson, bitch. Now,” he pushes her out of the way and comes towards me. “What is it, sweetie? Come here, come to daddy…”

I cower from him but manage to spit out, “Fuck you. Get away.”

“Awwww, your efforts are in vain, Lindsey.” He is coming closer.

“Tom, stop!” Suddenly my mom comes around him and climbs into the tub with me again. “Look,” she grabs my arm with the fresh cut on it and tilts my chin into the light so he can see the bruises from Gerard. “Just, please, Tom…she needs rest tonight. Please…”

My father stands looking down at us. I can see him weighing his options. It’s sort of a weird situation because we all know that some of the punches are from him, and my mom’s plea for my rest is somewhat stupid. I don’t need rest, I need for them to stop hurting me, including my mom.

Finally he takes a breath and continues, “Alright, Kathrine. Lindsey come here.” His voice is noticeably calmer now. When I don’t move he simply picks me up bridal style.

“No…dad…stop!” I struggle against him, but his arms are like a vice. They remind me of Gerard’s…

“Oh shut up, Lindsey. I’m putting you to bed. Kathrine, go into our room…” His voice to my mom is daunting and commanding, but there’s nothing I can do. She obeys him and slips by us, giving me a soft kiss on my head. He carries me into my room and lays me down.

When I’m in bed I quickly pull the covers up around me and curl into a tight ball away from him.

“Oh, Lindsey,” he sighs. “I will have you…” My eyes fly open to meet his menacing ones. “One day…” And with that he slinks out of the room closing the door behind him.

My confused, scared and angry, unrelenting thoughts are soon accompanied by the cries of my mom and then the rough sounds of one sided sex.

My whole body is aching with pain and abuse, from Gerard, from my dad, from me… I’m so nervous about Monday after the weekend. I wonder what will happen between Gerard and I. Why did he take my drawing? Who was that boy I saw for a few minutes when Gerard let his guard down? He seemed so nice and calm and beautiful… And my dad… He’s not actually going to rape me, right? I’m nothing, why would he want me? I’m his daughter, doesn’t he have any self-control? Why isn’t the corner a couple blocks away enough for him? Why does he need me too? Aren’t his whores and my mom enough?

I can’t stop thinking about what Gerard said too.

“ _You love it when I hurt you. Secretly, you crave the pain, don’t you bitch? That’s why you drew me. You can’t stop thinking about me._ _You’re so obsessed with me that I’ve seeped into your sub conscious._ _You try to fight me and tell yourself that you hate it, but you love the bruises I give you. You wear them like a trophy and even when you’re so beat up you can barely move, I slip into you mind and you grab the pencil.”_

Is he right? No…but, then why did I draw him? Maybe he means more to me than I even know… I wish the cut on wrist would have killed me. God, I’m so pathetic…


	3. This Ain't a Noose, This is a Leash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heya! I'm back and its WEDNESDAY! Here is chapter 3, its kinda short, sorry...  
> Yours,  
> writing2savelives

“Read pages 145—149 in the textbook and answer the questions on the worksheet I gave you and-.” The math teacher, Mr. Ammond, is cut off by the lunch bell.

Fuck Mondays… The weekend was uneventful. I got a break from Gerard, yay!

I have actually managed to hide from Gerard so far today and I intend to keep it that way, so disregarding his request to meet him under the bleachers at lunch, I scurry to the girls bathroom, avoiding the prying looks that I receive for my still not healed beat up face. I’m wearing a long sleeved jacket so nobody can see my cuts. I can’t remember the last time I wore something short sleeved.

No longer than two minutes pass, before the bubbly voices of some cheerleaders enter the room and talk while reapplying their make-up.

“Ethan said that? Oh my god!” I recognize the high pitched voice of Chelsea. She called me a whore in English today.

“I know!” Layanna…the BFF.

“But he’s such a babe, that sucks.”

“You know,” its Patricia now. God, what an awful name. “You don’t have to look in their eyes when you’re fucking…you can just turn over or something…”

“Patricia!” The other two girls screech.

“What? I’m just saying. Ethan’s hot and he’s into you. Just ignore what he said about…wait, what did he say?”

“That he agrees with Justin Bieber, rape happens for a reason.” Layanna provides.

“Well, it does, doesn’t it?” Patricia questions.

There is a silence.

“Well, whatever. He wants to fuck you.” Chelsea’s dumb advice is like nails on a chalkboard. Holy fuck, these girls have more problems than me.

“Speaking of hot guys…I hear Gerard is single again.” Patricia says.

“Yeah, I know.” Chelsea replies. “The whole school knows. But, I know something else…”

“What?!” Layanna whines.

“Well, when I was comforting Eliza yesterday morning she said that **_he_** broke up with **_her_**. Apparently he mentioned something about a different girl.”

“Oh my god! He’s cheating on her!” Layanna exclaims. This is new news to me. I wonder who the other girl is. Curiosity takes over my mind and something else…why do I feel so hot and bothered?

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Who’s the other girl?” Patricia asks.

“I don’t know, I don’t think Eliza knew either. She said that when she asked he said that she was quiet and she wouldn’t know her.”

“Hmmm,” Patricia hums. “Who does Gerard hang out with that’s quiet?”

“Well, there’s the whole cheer squad, but, none of us are quiet…” Chelsea thinks.

“What about that girl, what’s her name…?” Layanna wonders.

“Oh!” Chelsea bursts out, “You mean Lindsey! The stupid slut that he torments.” _Wait what!_ _No, no, no. Gerard doesn’t like me,_ and he definitely wouldn’t break up with the captain of the cheerleaders, Eliza, for me. He hates me…

“Yes! Her. Could it be her?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Patricia answers. “She’s such a fuck-up though, why would he want her?”

“I don’t know,” Chelsea says, “But I do know something. Even if Gerard wants her, I want Gerard and I won’t go down without a fight.”

“Hey!” Patricia yells. “I want him too!”

“Let the best girl win…” Layanna laughs. They giggle and start to talk again, but I can’t focus. What does this mean? Gerard doesn’t like me, I know it. Then why did he break up with a perfectly good girl? It’s probably someone else nobody knows about… Ugh! Why do I keep getting so hot and annoyed?

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Great, I didn’t even get to work on my drawings, stupid thoughts…

~

I hurry out the doors and away from the flow of students leaving. When I’m five minutes away I start to calm down. I should go downtown today, stay away from home because of my dad. God, my dad… I shiver with fear at the thought of him, I didn’t see him at all this weekend and I’d love to keep it that way.

The brisk, cold air of December seeps into my bones. I should have worn something warmer than my classic ripped tights and short skirt. Let’s be real though, like that’s ever going to happen.

The honk of a horn draws me from my thoughts and I raise my head to see who it is. Oh shit.

Driving slowly beside me is none other than Gerard in a brand new red Dodge Ram truck. I look down and I speed up my walking. When I turn the corner down an abandoned side street, I think I’m safe but Gerard’s car pulls in behind me. I’m running now, but I hear him park and get out to chase me. I dart down an alley and huddle behind a dumpster. It stinks of rotten eggs and other grossness. His footsteps grow nearer. _Run!_ My mind shouts and I take off at a sprint away from him.

 _Slam!_ Something grabs me forcefully and knocks me against the wall.

When I open my eyes I see Gerard, panting, right in front of me. He’s pressed his hips on mine and he’s so close he’s crowding me. His eyes are wide, but not filled with their usual devilish glint. His pretty hazel eyes search my face. Finally, I can’t take it.

I don’t mean to say something mean but it just comes out, “How’s the girlfriend, Gerard?”

“You bitch.” He growls. I automatically flinch, but after a few seconds I realize he’s not hitting me. He just stares at me angrily.

I taunt him again. God, why am I so self-destructive? “You know, your relationships are all the rage at school right now. I heard you left Eliza for some quiet girl. So, who is it?”

“Where did you hear that?” He demands, seeming very concerned.

“Oh, you know just the famously awesome Chelsea, Layanna and Patricia.” I say sassily with a flick of hair. “So, who is it?”

He snaps, grabbing my hips and pushing me towards the other wall. I crash against it. I slowly turn around to face him and stubbornly spit on his shoes. “What do you want, Gerard? Are you going to beat me? Just get it over with.”

“No!” He shouts. “Just…shut up!”

“Fuck, Gerard. Fine.”

He watches me, eyes skipping over my body. I feel paper thin and see through. His brows are knit together in concentration. He seems to be in deep thought, like his brain is having a civil war.

“Gerard…” I cautiously ask.

“Ugh, just…shut up!!!” He lurches forward and I prepare myself for a blow. When is doesn’t come I look to see he’s harshly punched the wall of the alley.

“Fuck!” He yells out and stumbles away clutching his fist.

_He didn’t hit me…why? He’s **never** not hit me._

I watch in shock as he whimpers from the pain, and then something propels me forward and suddenly I’m there taking his bloody fist into my hands. I use my sweater sleeve to wipe away the blood.

“Why the fuck did you do that? Fuck, you’re so stupid. What’s going on?” I question. Why am I being so caring?

He lets me clean it as much as I can, before answering. “I don’t know, I just…didn’t want to hurt you.” When he looks up into my eyes, I see they are filled with hope. It’s only a flash though before he shakes his head, pulls his fist away from me and says sharply. “Fuck you.” He hand comes out and slaps me hard across the face. “I left Eliza cause she was a bitch and wouldn’t put out.”

I gasp from the slap, but recover. He’s fucking angering me right now. “No, fuck _you_. I know that’s not true, everyone knows Eliza’s the school slut, you’re fucking lying.”

His hand snakes around my throat and squeezes. “Shut the fuck up, you whore. You’re the school slut. How many boys have fucked your tight ass, huh? Probably the whole school. Maybe I should help myself…”

“No!” I choke out.

He grins only slightly before releasing my neck. I think he’s going to hit me again, but instead he just grabs my hair and whispers hotly in my ear. “Come to school early tomorrow, or else.” And then he’s gone, running back down the alley to his car.

What the fuck just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, there's lots more to come!  
> Keep it ugly, fuck 'Keep Calm and Carry On', I'd rather 'Raise Hell and Change The World'!  
> Yours,  
> writing2savelives


	4. I Have News For You: You Must Obey Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there are some SERIOUS TRIGGERS in this chapter. Please read with CAUTION.   
> Triggers include: GRAPHIC RAPE SCENE, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND GRAPHIC SELF-HARM.

My pathetic house comes into view. I got lost a couple times because I didn’t know where I was after the chase I had with Gerard. Absently, my fingers brush my neck where he gripped today. I still can’t believe that’s all he did. He slapped me, pushed me and strangled my neck a bit. That’s all. His new found kindness scares me a little, but only a little. I really could get used to that side of Gerard. His words echo in my head though, “ _Shut the fuck up, you whore. You’re the school slut. How many boys have fucked your tight ass, huh?”_ And then something else, “ _Maybe I should help myself…”_ Fucking hell, why does everyone want to fuck me? I don’t really want to go home, but, my razor…

Opening the door, I quietly slink inside and start up the stairs.

“LINDSEY!!! RUN!!!” My mom’s terrified scream nearly makes me fall down the stairs.

“Mama?!” I call. “What’s going on?”

“Lindsey? Come here.” My dad’s voice commands from their bedroom.

“NO! RUN!!!” My mom screams again.

“Shut up bitch!” I hear a slap and a cry from the room. Before I have time to think I’m flying down the stairs and opening the door again. It’s time…I just know it. _“I will have you… **one day**.” _ My father’s voice rings in my head.

I don’t make it one step out the door before I feel my dad’s hand tangle into my hair and yank me backwards. I struggle viciously against him, writhing and twisting in his grip.

“Lindsey you’re only making this harder for yourself.” My dad’s voice is hot in my ear and sends a scared shiver through me. I lash out, frantically trying to free myself. I am only rewarded with a punch to the temple which sends me crippled to the floor. My head rings and my vision grows spotty. I hear the door slam closed and then rough hands haul me to my feet. I stumble, disoriented before my dad pushes me onto the couch. He looms dauntingly over me, grinning.

I’m try to wriggle off the couch when he pulls me to my feet and bends me over the couch.

When I feel his hands slip onto my hips and start to pull down my skirt and tights, a new fear sparks a fire within me and I kick, hitting him in the groin. Then I spin around about to punch but he grabs my fist and backhands me hard across the face. The force sends me backwards and I collapse into the couch, dizzy, again.

I give a start when his breath tickles my ear and his menacing voice speaks to me. "Okay, sweetheart, here are the rules: struggling will only make it worse and I don’t think you want that. You will not make a sound and you will not tell anybody otherwise I _will_ kill you in a slow painful way, got it? Now be a good girl and kiss daddy’s boo boo better.” He yanks his jeans down and before I have time to react his dick is forced between my lips.

He pushes it all the way down my throat I gag violently but he doesn’t seem to give a shit. Tears cloud my eyes until I can’t see. When he pulls up again I bit his tip hard. He screams out and pulls away. I spring from the couch but he catches me around the waist.

“Please, dad…please don’t do this.” I whimper. He pulls me back and again bends me over the couch, pressing my face into the pillows.

“I said be quiet.” He growls.

I turn my head to the side to speak. Tears are streaming down my face and my words become hard to understand. “Please Tom. I’ll d-do anything else, just p-please d-don’t do this…I’m sorry f-for whatever I d-did…p-please…” I’m sobbing uncontrollably. _This can’t be happening. I can’t lose my virginity to my father, no… I don’t want to get raped. Oh God… This can’t be happening._

“For fucks sake,” he growls. I hear the tear of fabric and then feel something being shoved in my mouth. I gag and try to spit the piece of shirt out but it immediately soaks up all the moisture in my mouth and is suddenly stuck in place.

I moan out in protest, yelping when my arms are twisted behind my back painfully so I can’t move.

From upstairs I hear my mom yell out. “Tom, please. Don’t do this to your daughter. Come on, Tom, I know you’re better than this.”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch, you know she’s not even mine so close your mouth or I’ll make you watch.” My father spits out. I hear my mother swallow down a protest. No one can save me. No one cares. No one loves me. I’m nothing.

I cry out when my dad’s rough, cold hands tug down my skirt and tights. He pulls them down past my knees then pushes my legs apart more. Suddenly his fingers jerk down my panties. I feel his mouth on my neck and jaw, sucking and biting.

_Oh God, please save me… **please**. _ I scream out in agony when he pushes his un-lubed, condom-covered dick into me. Fuck, I think I’m going to die. Right here, right now. This is where it ends, I finally die from being split in half. I feel something trickle down my thigh and I know I must be bleeding.

My father’s disgusting grunts and groans fill my ear. “Oh fuck. So tight…oh yeah…fuck yeah…”

He slams into me a few more times before I feel a thick fluid rise in my throat and suddenly I’m vomiting. I start to choke because the gag pushes it back down my throat.

“Oh c’mon, Lindsey. Seriously…” Tom sighs, as if disappointed in me even though _I’m_ the rape victim here. He removes the gag and I continue to vomit on the couch. He continues fucking my ass for what seems like hours, relentlessly. I feel like I’m on fire on the inside. _So used, so broken, so helpless. I can’t imagine life after this…_

“Oh fuck, Lindsey. Oh I’m close…” Vomit comes back up my throat and I soak the cushions with it. Suddenly I feel his dick twitch and fill the condom ashe comes into my ass, yelling out.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck.” He milks out his orgasm for a few more thrusts before pulling out. Letting my arms go he slumps over my back.

“Mmmm. That was so good, Lindsey. You’re so tight, just as good as I expected.” He whispers in my ear. Then standing up I hear him pull up his pants before he pulls me up into his chest. My lower back screams out at the sudden movement.

Suddenly his lips are forced onto mine in a sloppy kiss. They travel down my jaw to my neck and he starts sucking again.

After a while he regains control of himself again. “Now, just remember if you tell anyone I will kill you.” Then releases me, gives me a degrading ‘bop’ on the nose and bounds out the door as happy as a jackal.

I collapse on the floor in a ball of despair, completely numb of feeling. Sobbing hysterically, I fall into an awful, uncomfortable sleep.

 

~

 

I awake with a jolt from a nightmare, only to cry out when I move. My ass and lower back are on fire, dried blood and pre-cum stick to my thighs. Vomit covers my shirt front and burns in the back of my throat. Since I haven’t eaten in a long time, most of my barf was stomach acid which set my throat on fire. Tears strain my cheeks and my hair is a matted mess. _Why? Why are all the men in my life so awful? Why must they torture me? I never want to be looked at with lust again. I must make myself uglier…_

Hauling myself slowly to my feet, it takes me ten minutes to make it upstairs.

“Lindsey? Oh my God… Come here, untie me and I will help you.” My mother’s concerned voice calls from their room. I don’t want her help though, I want to be by myself.  I am nothing, I deserve nothing. I want to be alone forever.

Stumbling into my room I have one thought, **_razor_** _…_ I find it buried in my closet and step up to the mirror. _Pain, I must feel more pain…_ I peel off my skirt, tights and shirt. Sure enough my thighs are covered in blood. I look like absolute shit. Worse, I’m sewage. I’m less than trash; I’m the discarded shit people turn their noses at.

Tom’s harsh touch flashes in my mind. _I wish I didn’t have an ass for someone to fuck or breasts for someone to lust after_. Raising the razor to my chest, I press down firmly and draw a jagged line all the way around my left breast. I wish, if I pressed hard enough, it would fall off and then nobody would want me. The lump of fat I loathe, leaks blood down my stomach and thighs onto the carpet, but, I feel nothing. _Because I am nothing._

I need to die. I know I can’t live any longer like this. _No,_ a tiny voice says. _You will never be strong enough to even succeed at killing yourself. You deserve the pain and torture of Gerard and school._

Reluctantly, I climb into the shower. My mom has stopped screaming for me to untie her. My whole body is numb. I scrub myself raw, actually venturing to try and wash the cum out of my ass and throat, he forced down.

Once out, I can’t even formulate clear thoughts and end up stumbling out of the house in a short skirt with no tights on, a sweat shirt and my half-packed bag at three o’clock in the morning. My breast is still bleeding and I think the blood has gone through my shirt. The cold air stings my skin, but still I trudge on. Where is this stupid determination coming from? I can’t feel a thing aside from the overwhelming feeling to kill myself and make it to school. School seems to be winning right now.

It’s probably a little past four when I reach school. Disconnectedly, I shuffle around to the back of the building to the smoker alley. Collapsing on the cold ground, I cry myself to sleep again.

 

~

 

“Lindsey. Wake up.” Gerard’s voice rings in my ears. Memories of yesterday come flooding back. How long did I sleep? It’s still dark, probably 6:30 in the morning.

I roll onto my back and almost scream at the pain. Wow, the numbness is definitely gone. My whole body feels like death.

“Get up.” Gerard commands.

“Just leave me alone.” I spit out angrily.

“Wow, someone is asking to be punished.” He grabs my arm and yanks me roughly to my feet. I scream in agony, scrunching my face up.

“Please, Gerard. Not today…please.” I whimper.

“What is wrong with you? Feeling a little under the weather, is that it?” He teases. I feel his hand come out to grip my throat. I squeak and start to fight back. To get a better grip he removes his hand a repositions it higher, tilting my jaw up slightly.

I hear him gasp. “Well, well, well, what are these?” He pulls me closer and starts to inspect my neck. “Hickeys.” He confirms. Oh shit. He chuckles although he doesn’t sound very happy. Actually he sounds enraged. “Did someone finally give you a good fucking? Worm their way between those thick thighs of yours, hmm?” His eyes look furious, but I’m not scared. How dare he? I will rip his fucking head off…

“FUCK YOU!” I scream. “You know fucking nothing, you ignorant bastard. You play football on the stupid star football team and screw all the girls, probably go home and have your mom bake you a fucking cake just for being alive.” I shove him hard on the chest and he steps back against the wall. “You live in your perfect world and take out your non-existent anger on the poor fuck-up. You make your perfect life even more perfect by fucking destroying mine. You are the fucking devil, no you are the devil’s assistance because my father is the fucking devil.” I am full on screaming in his face, crowding him so much he’s begun to slide down the wall. “You have no idea what I go through-what I went through. How fucking dare you make a joke about my fucking sex life.” He’s sitting on the ground completely, staring up at me. I feel like I could burst into flames from anger right now. I grab the collar of his shirt, bringing my face closer to his. “Well, guess what? I DIDN’T FUCKING WANT IT! I DIDN’T! And it fucking hurt like hell itself and I cried and begged and begged and pleaded and he wouldn’t listen…” Suddenly all my energy vanishes and I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I sink to my knees that are straddling his thighs. Tears stream down my face and I barely manage to choke out in a whisper, “I didn’t want it…I…didn’t…want…it. And now, I’m dead. I’m nothing but a hunk of flesh that can barely move. I…d-didn’t…w-want…it.” I’m sobbing uncontrollably by the end. My body disobeys me and I find myself burying my face into Gerard’s chest. I’m clutching the collar of his jacket tightly in my fists as I try to ignore the pain that sitting on his lap brings to my ass.

Suddenly I feel him stir beneath me. _This is it. He’s going to fling me off of him, call me a whore, tell me that I deserved it. Give me a few punches to match my bruised body and leave me cold on the ground to die._ And then I feel strong arms tighten around me and pull me tight against his chest. He lifts his chin and rests it affectionately on my head. “Lindsey, I’m sorry.” His voice is low and raw, almost pained sounding.

I pull back suddenly, shocked, and search his eyes. He stares back at me. _What’s going on? Why is he being nice?_ I flinch when he brings a hand up to wipe my tears. I let him gently swipe the pad of his thumb across my cheeks to clean them.

“Lindsey, who did this to you?” His voice has a dark undertone, one I know all too well.

I shake my head furiously. “No, he’ll kill me, I can’t.”

“Lindsey, please. Just tell me who hurt you.”

“No, I can’t. He’ll kill me!”

“No, he won’t! I won’t let him!”

Ugh! This is too confusing. I narrow my eyes at Gerard before climbing off his lap. He catches my hand though and pulls me back down. I fall onto his lap and nearly start crying again from the pain in my ass.

“Lindsey, fuck, I’m bringing you to the hospital.” He scoops me into his arms and grabs my bag.

I thrash around in his arms and scream protests. “NO! No, I’m fine! Stop! Put me down! Gerard...” My escape attempts are in vain though, as his grip on me only tightens.

“Stop, Lindsey, you’re only hurting yourself more.”

“Just leave me alone. I don’t want your help.”

“Oh shut up.” He starts walking towards the parking lot. “If you tell me who did this to you, I’ll put you down.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “M-my d-dad…” My eyes start pouring a fresh round of tears. I hear Gerard gasp and set off at a run towards his car.

“Hey!” I yell. “You said you would put me down.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lindsey. Do you want to die?” I don’t say anything, because truthfully, I do.

The pounding run he starts hurts my body. My vision starts to cloud over again and I feel so limp…

 

Motion…we’re moving forward, fast. A car. It’s speeding.

“We’re almost there…just hold on.” Gerard’s soothing voice tells me. Too tired…

 

“Nurse! Doctor! Please help her.” Someone yells.

“Oh dear! Here lay her down on this, boy.” Some old lady’s voice is heard and then soft materiel in under me and more motion.

“You stay here, young man, no! No, Sir, you can’t come. Stay…"


	5. And It Seems Like Flesh Is All I've Got

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a new character for you guys to meet, I think you'll like him...  
> Sorry for that cliffhanger...   
> Tell me what you think of my story! Please...

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

An annoying sound fills my ears. Oh, fuck, I feel like I’ve been hit by a train. The smell of laundry detergent, bleach and hand sanitizer rush up my nose. I try to open my eyes but they feel super-glued shut. I try to wiggle my fingers, but it’s impossible. I’m just so exhausted, I feel dead. I feel a dull ache in my lower back but it’s not as bad as before. I can feel some bandages on my chest and something poking my inner arm. I will kill Gerard if he brought me to a hospital…

“Oh, Lindsey…I…I’m so stupid. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Gerard’s sorry voice is coming from my right. I now realize he’s got my hand too. “I’m so, so, so, so, so sorry.” There is a silence. I feel his thumb brush lightly across my knuckles. “I wish I could have…” Another long silence. “I’ll kill that bastard!” He shouts, scaring me half to death. “I will, Lindsey, I’ll kill him and cause him double the pain he caused you. Fuck, I’m so sorry. What have I done? Oh, what have I done…?”

Suddenly I hear the door swing open quietly. Gerard just keeps muttering to himself. “What have I done, I’m so sorry. What have I done…what…have…I…done?”

“Gerard…?” A voice by the door speaks. It’s a pre-teen sounding voice.

I feel Gerard start and look up suddenly. “Mikey, oh my god, what are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be upstairs.”

“They said I could come down to visit you and the girl. So this is her? The famous Lindsey?” I hear Gerard sigh.

“Yeah, this is her. Come here, Mikes.” I feel him retract his hand from mine and I hear the Mikey kid pad over and sit with Gerard.

“So, as you were saying, what _have_ you done?” Mikey ponders. He sounds like a smart kid.

“Oh Mikey…” Gerard sighs again. “Too much.” I hear Mikey stand and then I feel his fingers brush my neck across Gerard’s fingers marks where he strangled me.

“Did you do this?” Mikey asks.

“Yes.” Gerard answers sheepishly.

“And,” Mikey’s fingers brush my bruised jaw. “This?”

“Yes.”

Mikey’s hand trails up to my black eye. “And this?”

“Yes Mikey. I am a terrible person.”

“Yes, you are pretty bad.” Mikey confirms. I hear him settle back with Gerard. “But, you can also be amazing. I know you and I know that sometimes you have a funny way of showing your love.”

“No,” Gerard rushes out. “I don’t love her Mikey.” They can’t be talking about me. Gerard doesn’t love me, he hates me!

I hear Mikey let out a truly disbelieving laugh. “Ha! You wish Mr.”

“Ugh! Nurse!” Gerard calls. “Take this rascal back to his room.” Mikey giggles and Gerard chuckles. I’ve never heard Gerard sound so happy.  It’s sort of nice. If only he was like this around me too, maybe he will be...their laughing voices fade away.

 

~

 

Suddenly the annoying sound of snoring fills my ears. My eyes fly open and I shoot up.

“Oh Jesus!” My eyes turn to the side to see an unhealthily skinny looking kid with glasses, wearing a hospital gown sitting next to my hospital bed. His voice is familiar…Oh right! It’s Mikey! “I’m sorry. Gerard has always been a loud snorer… Anyway, I’m Mikey, you already know that though.”

I give him a confused look. “You know, after being in a hospital for a year I have picked up a few skills. I know what it’s like to be awake, but not be able to move. Happens to me all the time.” He shrugs.

“Um…h-hi…?” I say more like a question, blushing slightly at being caught.

“Hi!” He beams at me. “Are you alright? I should call the nurse now that you are officially awake. You took a pretty bad beating… I’m sorry, Gerard told me what happened. He hasn’t left your side all day and night, although I know that after he sees you’re awake he has other plans… Ah! I shouldn’t have said that!” He shakes his head at himself. He is a funny kid, quite talkative.

I shuffle around a little to get a better look around the room and cry out at the movement. I feel like there’s a log stuck up my ass, driving splinters into my skin. Mikey rushes to my side. “Oh, yeah. You better take it easy. I’m gonna get the nurse…”

“No!” I grab his arm to keep him by my side. I like him, he’s nice to me and he seems to be full of information. “I mean, what did you mean Gerard has other plans?”

“Oh I don’t know if I should…I already told you too much.” He shakes his head.

“Please Mikey…” I pout.

“Well, Gerard, he…well, you know him…he was pretty mad about your father and, um, he may have said he was going to, um, find him and rip his head off his shoulders and burn his body…yeah.” I gasp.

“He can’t, my dad, he’ll kill me if he finds out I told. Ah…” I claw at my hair. “I shouldn’t have been so stupid to tell him. It’s all my fault…” Tears sting my eyes.

“Oh no, Lindsey, please don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault. Your father, he’s a sick, sick man. I should know…” Mikey’s kind words comfort me a little.

I sniffle and wipe my nose. “Mikey, what do you mean, ‘you should know’?”

“Well,” he sighs and sinks onto the bed beside me. I move over, slowly, to make room for him. He smiles at my action and snuggles in beside me. Man, he’s bold… He takes one of my hands in his, rubbing it between his thumbs. “I like you, so, I’ll tell you.”

I nod at him. “Please…”

Mikey looks over his shoulder to Gerard and smiles to himself. “Well, you might have guessed, Gerard is my older brother. I’m thirteen now so it happened two years ago… Mine and Gerard’s dad…he’s not the best, actually he’s the worst. Our mom was so kind and nice, I miss her. She died when I was ten. Cancer. She suffered for a long time and completely drained all our money, it made my father grow bitter and cruel. They were never truly in love and once she got cancer and he had to put up with her, no money and two hyper boys, he got into some bad stuff. I don’t know exactly what, but by the time she died I’m pretty sure he had fucked just about all of New Jersey. But, apparently that wasn’t enough. When she died there was no one to protect us anymore. He came at Gerard first, but he managed to get away and in his angry state, ran out of the apartment. That left me alone. Gerard, I know he feels terrible…he apologizes every day for leaving me and I forgive him. It’s not his fault, it’s my father’s. That day he raped me, just like you. Fortunately, Gerard returned not long after he ran out and nearly killed our father right there in the living room. He took me straight to the hospital where they ran a bunch of tests and found out that although, I didn’t catch any disease I’m sure my dad had, I have leukemia.  So, yeah. That’s why I’m in the hospital. Been here for a year. They say I have, maybe, one more year.” He forces a smile at me. “Hey, hey. Stop crying. It’s okay, I’ve come to terms with it.” I didn’t even realize I was crying.

“Mikey, I’m so sorry.” I squeeze his hands reassuringly.

“I know. Everybody is, but it’s really nice to hear it from you because I know you know what it’s like.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I do now.” We smile at each other and exchange a mutual understanding and comfort. In that moment, I feel, for the first time in forever, kind of okay.

“Hey Mikey, what is…Oh.” Mikey and I turn to see Gerard stir and wake up. He turns white as a sheet when he catches sight of me. His raven hair is perfectly sleep tousled. It looks beautiful… _Ugh! What was that?_

“Hey Gerard.” Mikey bubbles. “Lindsey is up.”

“Yeah.” He acknowledges. “Lindsey…” he walks over to us. “How are you?”

I nod slightly at him. He comes over to the side of the bed. I flinch when he sits down on the edge. Mikey looks between us and smiles, then slips out of the bed.

“I’m gonna go get the nurse.”

“Thanks Mikey.” Gerard says. “That’d be great.” After Mikey leaves, Gerard turns to me. I give a small shudder under his intense gaze.

“Lindsey,” he breathes. “I need you to tell me where you live.”

I shake my head in confusion. “What?”

“Just tell me where you live.”

“Why?”

“Because…just because.”

“No.” I remember what Mikey told me. “You’re only going to get me killed.”

“Fuck, Lindsey. Why are you so goddamn stubborn? You can’t just not do anything, he’ll only hurt you again until he kills you.”

Angry courage bubbles up in my throat. “And what about you, huh? You hurt me. A lot of people hurt me, Gerard, it’s just a fact of my life.” I stick my hands defiantly on my hips.

He rakes a hand through his perfect black hair, upsetting the strands in an even more perfect way. “I know, Lindsey and…I…I’m sorry. I feel terrible.”

I scoff at him. “You’re what? You’re sorry, huh? Great timing Gerard. After two years of torture, you’re finally sorry after someone else hurts me. Did you finally see how bad you hurt me when it was someone else’s fist marks on me? Is that it?” I climb out of bed, yanking out the needle in my arm and start to yell in his face, while trying to ignore the ache in my lower abdomen. “You feel this twisted protectiveness over me. No other monster is allowed to hurt your precious pet. Is that it? Am I your pet Gerard? Your precious pet that only you can defile and beat. Well guess what? I have other people to fear than just you. My fucking father will kill me if he finds out I told you. Maybe you should tell him and then I’ll finally be able to die. That’s all I want…” I sigh. “To die.” I sink to the floor in a tight ball. “Just let me die. Please…please, please, please, please. Let me die. Why aren’t I dead?” I’m crying softly and shaking on the cold floor.

I feel Gerard’s strong arms around me lifting me up. He climbs onto the bed and cradles me sideways in his lap.

“No…” I struggle slightly against him. His arms only tighten around me. I’m so tired. My body feels so run down and used; everything aches. Tears water my eyes until I can’t see. Frustrated, I bury my face into his chest and grab his warm sweater in my fists. His hands rub soothing circles into my back. When they start to travel to my lower back and hips, I cry out in pain. That whole area still hurts from Tom.

“Shhhh,” he whispers into my matted hair. “It’ll help. Trust me.” I nod ever so slightly and allow him to gently massage me. He works slowly, trying to untie the many knots and avoid the bruises.

“I’m sorry about Mikey.” I murmur into his sweater.

“I know. So am I.” He agrees. “I think he likes you. He usually never tells new people about what happened.”

“He’s so young…” I sigh. It feels foreign yet easy to have a normal conversation with Gerard.

“So are you.” Gerard points out. I remove my face from his shirt to look up at him. His beautiful hazel eyes gaze down at me with…kindness…sympathy?

“You never answered my question. Am I your pet, Gerard?”

“No, Lindsey.” He answers solemnly. His hands stop rubbing my back and come up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You are quite free.”

My eyebrows knit together in frustration. I look down and tuck my chin into my neck. “No I’m not.” I whisper.

“Yes,” he insists. “Yes you are. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you are. Leave. That’s all you have to do. Leave your abusive parents. Leave our terrible school. Leave me; your tormenter. I’m so sorry, Lindsey, for what I’ve done to you. I never want you to think of me as a monster. You’re so…beautiful and…you just need to get away from this terrible town. Get away and let out that wild and free side of you. You don’t deserve any of this.”

Tears slip down my cheeks at his beautiful, hopeful words. But, they’re not enough. _You’re nothing. If you left someone would pick you up off the street and use you like the whore you are. Nobody cares about you, about your artwork. Your own parents don’t believe in you. It’s time you give up on the unrealistic dream._ I feel the familiar thrum in my wrists and thighs, begging to be hurt. “Yes I do.” I mumble. “I deserve everything I got and more. I will go home and my father will use me again and I won’t put up a fight this time because what he did to me is what I deserved.”

“No Lindsey! You can’t believe that. You can’t let yourself slip into this despair. I know what it’s like. I saw Mikey go through that, but that kid’s amazing and he saw the truth. That he was not responsible, that it was not his fault and that he didn’t deserve that. Be strong like him, please.”

I shake my head slightly. “I can’t. I’m weak and tired. Just leave me alone and let me go home and die in peace.”

“No,” he says defiantly. “Fuck. Where’s that goddamn nurse? Oh!” I hear the doors swing open and the squeak of sneakers walk into the room. “Speak of the devil.” Gerard murmurs.

“Hello Lindsey Ballato. How are you feeling, hun?” The chirpy voice of the nurse asks, obnoxiously. I bury deeper into Gerard’s chest trying to block out her loud voice. He wraps his arms around me firmly.

“Aren’t you two the cutest little couple? How long you two been datin’?” At this, I shoot straight up. Gerard looks down at me with wide eyes. We exchange an awkward look before both scooting away from each other. He goes to sit on the chair and I sit back against the headboard.

“Oh, okay then.” She says cautiously. In the background I hear Mikey’s hysterical laughter. Gerard and I glare at him before Gerard walks over, picks him up and sits him on his lap.

The nurse smiles weakly and then rolls over a machine, telling me it’s just to check my vital signs. I agree and she takes my blood pressure and such.

 She writes the results down in a chart before commencing to tell me what I already know. “So, Miss, you took a pretty bad beating.” I roll my eyes. _As if I can’t tell. “_ You stayed here overnight because of your very substantial injuries. A minor concussion due to a severe blow to the temple, some tearing of the vaginal walls, loss of blood due to the great deal of cuts and wounds on your body and various episodes of black outs due to intense trauma. When we checked, you had no previous food in your stomach, telling us you had a serious vomiting bout. You have been on morphine for the last twenty four hours, but I see you took that out.” She stares pointedly at the dripping needle hanging of the side of the bed.

“You may still feel nauseous over the next few days because of your concussion and blood loss. We have given you more blood and fed your hunger through the tubes overnight. Here, the doctor has prescribed you some pain medication and,” she leans in so only I can hear. “The birth control pill.” She leans back again. “We gave you both earlier this morning when you were still asleep. We recommend taking them for the prescribed month every morning. Here,” She hands me a bottle and a little cardboard box. “We’ll just change some of your dressings, but, it seems you are quite the little healer!” She shrieks, like that’s world saving news.

 “Unfortunately, there is nothing much we can do after that. We advise you take the week off school to rest and give yourself full time to heal and recover.” Then she comes over to the side of the bed and whispers in my ear. “We also felt it was necessary, due to your circumstances, that we test you for any STDs or STIs. Very fortunately, you are clean, but we suggest that you check up with a doctor again in a month.” When she leans back she smiles warmly at me. I feel slightly overwhelmed with all this information, but also relieved that my fucking father didn’t infect me. Out of the corner of my eye I see Gerard looking worried, obviously trying to understand what she whispered to me. Mikey smiles at me knowingly and reassuringly.

“Alright, I will quickly grab some supplies, change your bandages, bring your clothes and then give you half an hour to change and check out. Feel better, sweetie.” Her condescending voice says as she squeezes my arm comfortingly before turning to leave.

“Hey!” Gerard yells. _Oh what now?_ “You can’t kick her out! She’s not well enough to go home!”

“I am very sorry Mr. Way. I know you care for her.” _That sneaky bitch…_ “But, our hospital is very full at the moment. With a few days rest, your girlfriend will be alright.” I turn bright pink, I’m sure, at the mention of Gerard being my boyfriend. Like that would ever happen…

“Fuck you, you emotionless bitch! We’re not fucking together! Ugh…” He sighs. “Just get her fucking clothes.” The bitch smirks to herself before slipping out the room.

When she returns, Gerard and Mikey leave while she clean my wounds, the morphine must have worked like a charm, because I  still have some pain, but nothing compared to yesterday. She invites a doctor in to okay my leave. He seems very bored and anxious to go help someone else. After, the boys come back in and she returns with my clothes under her arm. Only then do I remember. That in my haste to get out of the house I only wore, my mini skirt with no tights, a ratty old basketball sweatshirt dotted with dried blood around the chest and beat up doc martens. Fucking great.

The nurse gives me a sympathetic look before leaving again. I instruct Gerard and Mikey to turn around while I change. When I slip my gown off I catch sight of my naked self in the mirror. Fuck. I look like death itself. Dark purple circles ring my eyes, bruises litter my face along with disgusting finger marks around my hips. Hickeys cover my shoulders, neck and jaw, and bandages disguise the pale skin of my breasts. My hair is a tangled mess, still trying to stay in the pigtails I put in a few days ago now.

I try to avoid the mirror when I pull on my clothes _. Of course I didn’t remember a bra, nor a shirt or tights or anything fucking useful_. My sweatshirt has gross blood stains from the cuts I inflicted on my breasts. Thankfully my skirt is plaid and doesn’t show the blood from my ass, but my underwear is completely soaked and useless. I attempt to tame my wild black hair, but to no avail. _Ugh…I just need to get out of here so I can go deal with myself. I hope no one looks at me strange. They probably will…_ Aside from my appearance I still feel like utter shit. My dad really did a number on my ass. The pain travels all the way up into my lower back and spine. The cuts on my body hurt like hell and sting…

“Okay, I’m done.” I announce and the boys turn back around. Gerard’s pretty eyes look sorry, as if he knew that I looked in the mirror and was disappointed with my hideous self. “Now, if I could just find my damn bag…” I mutter.

“I’ve got it. Right here.” Gerard replies. Mikey scoops it out of his hands before I can grab it and prances over to me. He slings it over my shoulder and then reaches up to pull me into a hug. Surprised, I don’t move, but after a moment I adjust and wrap my arms around his thin frame.

When he pulls away he smiles. “C’mon,” he takes my hand. “I’ll show you where to check out.” He drags me through the crowded, depressing hallway to the front desk. I feel bad this is where he lives. I’d go insane here…

The woman at the desk gives my clothes a strange, judging look and I shrink into myself. Fuck, I just want to leave, I need to leave…

Suddenly, Gerard’s arm is around my shoulder pulling me into his chest and shielding me from the awful lady. As much as I want to pull away, it feels nice to be protected. _Wait what? Protected…by Gerard?_ He leans over and signs me out.

Reluctantly I reach into my bag digging around for my wallet and hoping it won’t be too expensive. My parents aren’t kind enough to even buy me health insurance. When I find it and place it on the counter the woman gives me a curious look. “No need for that Miss.” She glances briefly up at Gerard. “Someone’s already paid.” I gasp and nod before Gerard steers me to the elevator. I let myself hide in his arms and avoid the curious looks from people around. When we reach the elevator, Mikey comes up to my other side and gives me one last hug before pressing the button for up, while Gerard presses down.

“Bye Mikey. Thank you.” I yell after him.

“Bye bro. See you tomorrow. Love you.” Gerard calls. Mikey smiles and slips behind the doors.

Once we are in our elevator, I remove myself from Gerard’s arms. “Why did you pay?” I question.

“Because you can’t.” He answers plainly, pulling me into his side again. The other woman in the elevator gives us a sweet look. I frown in frustration.

“You shouldn’t have.” I respond glumly.

“Oh shut up.” I close my mouth.

I guess we were on one of the higher up levels because the goddamn elevator is taking forever. It stops on almost every fucking floor to pick other fucking people up, letting more frigid air in. I start to shiver against Gerard. He kindly removes his jean jacket and hoodie and wraps them around me. I try to resist, but don’t want to cause a scene in the cramped elevator.

When we get outside I’m so cold I’m almost crying. I’ve never been this cold before. _It is December, you idiot,_ I think. _Maybe if you had actual pants on and some more blood in your body you would be warmer, you dumb fuck._

Finally I turn to Gerard, shaking from the cold and stammer, “Bye.” Then hesitantly, “Thank you.” I hand him back his jacket and hoodie before turning to leave and start the hour long journey home or to a coffee shop. _Yeah, a coffee shop sounds better and warmer than home. I never want to go home…_

“Where do you think you’re going?” Gerard calls behind me. I ignore him and keep walking. He runs around in front of me to get my attention. He sees how violently I’m shaking. “Fuck, Lindsey. C’mon let’s go buy you some clothes.” He runs over to a payphone and dials a number before starting to talk. “Yeah, the hospital…five minutes? Great! Thanks Frank…See you soon, buddy.”

“N-no-o.” I stutter.

“What?” He turns back to me.

“N-no. J-just-t l-leave m-me a-alone.”

“No.” He replies stubbornly. He takes his jacket off again and places it around my shoulders, then leads me back into the building. I try vainly to get out of his grip, but he’s too strong. His vice like grip reminds me of before he would hurt me. Fear tickles my senses…

“N-no…P-please…” I start to cry.

“Lindsey! Lindsey, stop!” He sits down in a chair and pulls me into his lap. He takes my face into his hands and tries to calm me down. “Lindsey, stop. I’m not going to hurt you. Please, stop…You’re so cold, c’mon, I just want to get you some warm clothes.”

“No, p-please…don’t. Just l-leave me a-alone…I know you. I k-know what you’ll d-do.” _He called his friend to come join the fun. They’re going to beat me until I’m dead. I don’t want to die…wait what…?_

We hear a honk and I nearly fall onto the floor. Some of the lingering people give us annoyed looks. Gerard waves to the car and starts to stand. I move to stand, _Maybe I’ll run away…So he can’t hurt me…_ Before I can solidify my plan though, Gerard scoops me into his arms and carries me to the waiting car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, so I forgot to mention last time that I'm posting this story on the mychemicalromancefanfiction website also! If you get a chance, check it out because on that site they allow you to add pictures of the characters, so you should go check out what I'm thinking they look like. Here's the link: http://www.mychemicalromancefanfiction.com/Story/86176/Holding-On-To-You/


	6. I'm Open A Moment and Close When You Show It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some Ger-z!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh, I'm so sorry; I forgot to upload this chapter. I meant to do it sooner, I really did, but school started and homework and blah blah blah, shitty stuff. So, I hope this brightens your day just as it does mine:)

 The car is probably the most beat-up car I’ve ever seen. It looks like if you touch it it’ll fall apart and collapse right there. He places me in the back and then climbs in after me. I cower away from him and the driver.

“Hey bro! What’s up? Who’s the chick?”

“Nothing much. Thanks for picking us up. Yeah, this is Lindsey.” He brushes away the hair from my face.

The driver’s eyes widen and then he smiles friendly at me. “Hey! This is Lindsey? It’s really her, Gerard?” The driver is wearing a black beanie over some brown hair. His bangs stick out and perfectly frame his cheekbone. He’s wearing red eyeshadow and eyeliner around his dark hazel eyes. I can see a scorpion tattoo on his neck, high enough not to be covered by the collar of his black Misfits hoodie. His hands are mostly covered by black fingerless skeleton gloves.

“Yeah, Frank, this is Lindsey Ballato. Lindsey, this is Frank Iero.”

“Wow!” Frank exclaims. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so-.”

“Okay, Frank. Drive!”

“Where to?” Frank chuckles.

“Um,” Gerard thinks. “We need to get Lindsey some clothes before she dies of hypothermia. The mall. They have everything, right? Fuck, I don’t shop that much…”

I clear my throat, gaining a little confidence. Frank seems nice enough. “Willowbrook mall has a Hot Topic…” I trail off.

They both grin at me. Frank winks and says, “I like your style, girl! Snooty-boy Gerard over here should follow…” Frank looks pointedly at Gerard jeans and normal t-shirt.

Gerard throws up his hands, “Hey! I do! I love bands and that shit, you know that Frank, I just can’t wear that stuff at school.” Frank and I both roll our eyes and then laugh when we see that we’ve mimicked each other.

Frank starts the car towards Willowbrook mall. I’m curled up, still shivering, with no seatbelt on. When Gerard notices he asks Frank, “Hey can you turn on the heat?”

“No can do. Unfortunately this piece of shit doesn’t have any heating or cooling. Just barely stops and starts.”

“Right. I always forget.” Gerard sighs before he simply pulls me into his lap and rubs my arms and back, trying to work some warmth into them.

We pull into the parking lot and unload. Turns out Frank is actually super short, he walks beside me with Gerard on the other side. I feel sandwiched between them and if that’s not enough Gerard decides to wrap an arm around my waist. I don’t know whether I’m uncomfortable or comforted by the action. I’m still uneasy around him, like I feel he’ll snap any second and start hurting me again, but I’m terribly cold and he seems to be a motherfucking furnace.

Sure enough, I was right. There is a Hot Topic. When we enter Frank runs up to the counter and locks lips with a short, cute girl. Gerard chuckles.

When they pull apart Frank introduces me. “Lindsey, this is my girlfriend Jamia. Jamia this is-.”

“Lindsey! Is it real?” She looks up at Gerard. He nods. “Yeah, Jamia. This is Lindsey. It’s nice to see you Jamia.”

“Wow!” She’s cute and bubbly. She rushes around the counter and comes to stand in front of me. “Oh, you’re so pretty! I can definitely see why Gerard likes-.”

“Ok, Jamia! I was hoping you could help Lindsey pick out some new clothes.” Gerard leans forward and presses something into Jamia’s hand. “Frank and I will wait on that nice, comfy looking bench over there.”

Jamia nods, hyper, then takes my hand and leads me around the store, throwing things into my arms. I soon start to warm from the growing weight I’m carrying. She pushes me into a fitting room and commands me to try on the clothes. I think I like Jamia. She’s so friendly and open. She’s super sweet and helpful, incredibly talkative though. I can’t believe all the new friends I’ve made today. Can I call them friends? Mikey, Frank, Jamia…Gerard? Are they my friends. No…no one wants to be friends with me, I’m no one.

Jamia follows me into the change room and helps me try on the clothes. She removes my sweatshirt without my consent and I immediately cower try to cover my bare, scared, bandaged chest.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…I’m so sorry, but do you need a bra?” She asks, holding my gaze.

I shyly nod.

“Well,” she replies. “We don’t have any on sale, but I always bring extra in my bag. One sec.” She runs out and then returns with a bra and panties in her hand. She holds them out to me. They’re very beautiful black lace with pretty pearls encrusted.

“Sorry, I bring them just in case Frank and I decide…anyway. Here.” She explains, blushing.

“Thanks,” I whisper. Thankfully they fit, I guess her shirt hides her big breasts because I have no small chest.

Next, she helps me into the clothes. She’s picked out a short plaid skirt that beautifully emphasizes my hips, actually making them look good, for once, over red fish net tights. Then a Green Day tee hidden by a black oversized Misfits sweater and a nice knit scarf. She smiles at her work.

“You look great, just hold on.” She runs out and comes back with what I assume is her personal bag. She pulls out a brush, combing out the knots in my thick hair and redoing my ponytails and then adding some black eyeliner and eye shadow. I look pretty good after all her work and more importantly I am beginning to thaw.

“Thanks so much Jamia.” I smile truly at her. She smiles back and says it was nothing.

“Really, come back anytime. It was so much fun. I wish Frankie would let me give him a make-over.”

“Ha!” I laugh and gasp. I haven’t laughed in years! We exit the change room to join the boys.

“Wow!” Gerard gasps. “You look really good!” I blush. Frank comes over to me. He’s holding a bag in his hand.

“Here,” he pulls out a beanie and gloves like his. “I think these would look good on you.”

“Oh, thanks.” I accept them and pull them on. They add to my warmth, yay!

“You’re right, Frankie,” Jamia agrees. She goes over to hug him. “They look really good.”

“Thank you guys.” Suddenly I remember I have to pay and go to take my bag from Gerard to get my wallet. Jamia sees my actions and stops me.

“No it’s okay. Someone’s already payed.” She quickly glances at Gerard.

“No,” I gasp and turn to Gerard. “I can’t let you keep paying for me. Please…”

“No. It’s fine. I want to.” He shushes me. Fuck, who is this Gerard?

I thank them again and after Frank gives Jamia a long kiss and promises to pick her up after her shift, we leave and head back to the parking lot. It’s then that I remember that Gerard had a car.

“Hey?” I ask Gerard. “Didn’t you have that red truck?”

“Um, yeah, well now I don’t.”

“Oh, why?”

“I had to sell it.”

“Why?”

“I just did.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I just did, okay?!” He snaps. I cower away again and the all too familiar feeling of unease around him returns. When we reach the car all is quiet. Gerard still sits in the back with me, I don’t know why and Frank asks where to next.

“Just drop me off at my house, please.” I respond.

“No!” Gerard cuts in. “You can’t go back! He’ll only hurt you again.” Frank looks confused and Gerard simply mutters, “Later.”

“Well, where am I going to go, huh?” I counter.

“I don’t know; I’ll get you an apartment.”

“What?! No, Gerard. You won’t. I’ve had enough of this silly fake protective act. Drop it. I mean it. You’re my bully and that’s all you’ll ever be. You beat me and hurt me and humiliate me and that’s all. Now, take me home so I can live out my miserable life in peace. There’s nothing you can do to change it. My dad will always be the abusive drunk that he is and I will always be his daughter. There’s no way around it.” My face feels red and I gasp to catch my breath.

Gerard looks stunned and…hurt. _Whatever. He deserved a good wake up call._ Frank looks between us with a question in his eyes. Gerard still hasn’t spoken so I turn to him and tell him to please take me to my house and give him my address. He nods slightly and starts up the car.

We’re silent on the way back, Gerard’s looking straight ahead, his brows knit together as if he’s trying to figure out a complicated math problem. I can’t help this feeling that there’s something about my house that I don’t want Gerard to know, but I just can’t remember what.

When we arrive outside my house I thank Frank for everything.

“It was nothing, really.” He responds. “It was so nice meeting you, I hope to see you again soon. Take care and stay out of trouble” He finishes with an undertone.

“I will, thanks, and tell Jamia thanks for everything too and tell her I’ll give her stuff back soon.” Frank nods, looking a little confused, but not pressing the subject.

When I turn to say goodbye to Gerard he has a look in his eyes. One I know all too well. It’s the one of anger. Anger and pain. I don’t dare speak to him, not wanting him to suddenly snap at me, so I slip out the door without saying goodbye.

I’m almost to my house when I’m spun around and suddenly Gerard’s pulling me to him into a crushing hug. I’m shocked, but soon relax and encircle my arms around his shoulders. His arms tighten around my waist and lift me off my feet slightly. His hot breath brushes my neck and shoulder. I feel safe and warm in his strong arms. _Fuck, that’s cliché._ Breaking out of my trance I pull back, but he doesn’t let go.

“Be safe.” His beautiful silky voice whispers in my ear. I shudder in his arms and scoff slightly at his advice. _As if it’s really up to me._

He finally releases me, sets me down and then glides back to the car without meeting my curious gaze. I watch him enter the car and then hear him speak to Frank. “2725 Tilten st. Remember that, Frankie.” _Oh that little motherfucker…That’s what I was trying to remember; to not let him see my house or address. Now he’s going get me killed by confronting my dad. Fucking piec e of inconsiderate shit…_

“Fuck you, ASSHOLE!” I yell chasing the car as it drives away. “You fucking devil, I HATE you!!”

Glumly, I return to the house and unlock the door bracing myself for the worst. Lucky me, the house is empty. I slowly drag myself upstairs to my room. I manage to make it past my razor and collapse on my bed. I’m so tired and sore I don’t even bother to take off my nice new clothes.

 

            ~

 

I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of struggle, coming from outside my window. _Hmmm_ …I think in my half asleep mind.

“If you lay another finger on her, I swear to god you will never see the light of day for the rest of your pathetic life!” _It’s probably just my mom and dad fighting outside the front door. Mom probably found him with another hooker._

Rolling over, sleep takes me again.

 

I weave through the rush of other students, fighting the crowd away from the cafeteria and towards the girls’ washroom. It’s been exactly one week since I was released from the hospital. My father has been absent from the house the entire time, which isn’t really that long if you consider that I’m at school in the day and wandering around until sunset when I have to go home or I’ll get lost. We all know the saying ‘Home is where the heart is’ but I don’t feel like I have a heart at all. I visited a walk-in clinic the other day like the hospital doctor recommended, but when he asked where I felt pain all I could answer was my stomach. Not like a stomachache, but like an inner, all consuming emptiness, slowing eating away at my insides. All he could say was a bunch of doctor shit basically amounting to, ‘Depression’s a bitch. Here’s a psychiatrist if you ever gather enough money to see one.’ And that was the end of my courage to reach out for help.

Nights are the worst. The pounding in my head becomes almost impossible to ignore and sleep rejecting me mercilessly. Since my body is one painful wreck from that night, I can’t bring myself to actually cut. I can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. My thoughts say it’s good, but the demon begs for the sharp blade. The prescribed pain meds help, I guess. Birth control always brings back memories of why I actually _have_ to take it.

Gerard very nearly ignores me. Earlier today he bumped into me, causing my bag drop and the contents to scatter. My medication stood against the linoleum like a flashing neon light and now the whole school knows about my personal health concerns. I’ve thought hard about that incident though and I can’t decide whether Gerard meant it as a bully, whether it was a true accident or if maybe he did it on purpose to see if I really was taking my meds…

I quickly scratch that thought though; it’s absolutely ridiculous. How could he have even been sure that I would bring my meds to school? He couldn’t have.

The scent of school bathrooms reaches my nose before my eyes.

_Welcome to reality, would you like a slap in the face with that?_

~

 

“…can’t run from me. I’ve got connections. I hear things. I always know where you are. Always. And right now I suggest you back away from that door before I smash your face in.” The signature yelling of our crime ridden neighborhood wakes my fleeting slumber. Although it sounds alarmingly like its right outside, I roll over and bury my head in the pillow trying to catch at least a few hours of shut eye.

 

“LINDSEY! YOU FUCKING BITCH! GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE OR YOU WILL REGRET IT!!!”

I bolt upright in bed, awoken by the screaming voice of my father. I cower into the bed sheets as his voice comes closer and closer…Suddenly my bedroom door flies open and there stands my father beat up… _Wait, what?_ He’s got an ugly black eye, a yellow-bruised jaw, there’s a patch of hair missing from his head, bloody nose, a cut lip and a torn, bloody shirt. _Fucking hell, what happened?_

“I told you I would kill you if you told anyone…” _Curse Gerard and his stubborn attitude._ “Now you’re going to pay.” He lunges for me and tackles me to the floor. I struggle vainly; I’m groggy from a night’s sleep and therefore slow. I receive a punch to my face and then he stands up and kicks my stomach _._ Still, though I feel like he’s holding back a little bit. He did say he would kill me if I told…

“Now get your bloody body off my carpet and get the FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE! Your mother and I fed you and bathed you and have taken care of you for your entire life and when one of us decides to take something back in return you go crying like a little bitch to your boyfriend. Well, have fun living on the streets like the whore you are. You will never see your precious boyfriend again. You have no life now, you will disappear and no one will remember or miss you. I mean what I say, pack your bag and pray to god that you last ten minutes on those streets, because no one gives a damn about your well-being out there, trust me. You should be happy that your mother and I provided a roof over your head and put up with your relentless whining and sulking for seventeen years.” He shakes his head to himself. “You have until I get cleaned up and thank the lord I’m not beating your ungrateful ass to a pulp.” With that he leaves me on the floor.

My body aches and cries when I try to stand, but I have no choice. _I have to get out of here now, before he’s back._ I scan the room for my bag and franticly pack my essential belongings, after short consideration I shove my razor in there too, along with my sketchbook and all my money (which is only fifty bucks). I practically fly down the stairs without saying goodbye. I try to ignore the pain of running and instead focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I take off at a sprint towards the most populated place I know. School **.** I overslept and so school started, what, two hours ago? Yeah, it seems ten o’clock outside. Luckily, my adrenaline hasn’t run out and I’m still full-on sprinting. Soon my panicked feeling starts to fade and I’m able to slow down a little.

Holy fuck… Did that just happen? Gerard! This is all his fault! Oh, I’ll kill his stupid ass. School comes into view and I speed up again. Where would Gerard be? What class does he have right now? My question is answered when I wander around the back of the building to find that football is having a freezing practice on the field. My emotions are running too high right now and before I know what I’m doing my feet carry me out onto the field and into the middle of a practice game of football. All the players stop and gasp at my beat up body. I ignore them and the coach telling me to get off the fucking field, bee-lining it to Gerard. He stands shocked waiting for me to reach him. I see his eyes dart over my body taking in my bruised state.

When I reach him, I twist a fist into his jersey and drag him back the way I came towards the smoker alley. The coach is yelling at us, but Gerard simply lets me drag him away from the game. I shove him against the wall and don’t waste any time before starting to yell at him.

“You fucking jerk! I fucking hate you, look! Look what he did! Look what you did!” I motion to my bruised, aching, face. “Was that you in the middle of the night? Outside my house, beating up my dad?!”

He looks sheepish at first, but then gains some confidence. “Yes, Lindsey. I was standing up for you. He had to know it’s not okay. He’s a sick fuck and I would’ve killed him if I didn’t have morals.”

“Standing up for me?!” I scoff. “You don’t stand up for me. You never have, never will. You’re the one who hurts me. And guess what? I didn’t take your advice. I didn’t stay safe. Do you know what my dad told me before I ran away?!” I’m getting really worked up. Who does he think he is? My knight in fucking armour? Well, he’s done nothing but get me more hurt.

“No, Lindsey. What did he tell you?” Oh, he’s got nerve…

“He shamed me for not keeping my mouth shut and promptly gave me less than ten minutes to leave the house. He wished me luck with my new life living on the streets as hooker. He told me that I should be thankful that my parents even put a roof over my head.” I take an angry step towards Gerard. “He told me I would disappear and no one would even notice or miss me.” An unwanted tear slips down my cheek at the painful memory. My voice dies down a little, growing sad. “That I should consider myself lucky that he didn’t beat my ungrateful ass to a pulp.” I cover my face in my hands as more tears stain my cheeks.

“Lindsey…” Gerard’s tentative voice speaks. “I-I’m sorry…”

I chuckle sarcastically, hiccupping from my tears. “Sure you are.”

“I mean it, look, I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted him to turn around and hurt you. I just…he can’t get away with what he did…” Gerard’s voice takes on a scarier, threatening tone. “He’s so sick and disgusting and…I’ll kill him, I should have, so he wouldn’t have hurt you.”

I peak at him from my hands, growing frustrated by his confusing behavior. I don’t know what to make of Gerard anymore. He was my tormenter for two years and these past couple days he’s been…different.

“I don’t understand…Why?”

“Why, didn’t I want him to hurt you? I never want to see you hurt.” He reaches out a hand and affectionately cups my cheek and wipes a few of my tears. He’s looking at me with a…cocerned look?

“But, you hurt me.” I reply plainly.

“I know.” He hisses and steals his hand back as if I’m the hot potato.

“Well, then?” I question.

“Well, what?!” He says frustrated.

“Well what does it matter to you?”

“You matter to me.” He says. It’s a nice thing to say, but he sort of spits it out, almost rudely.

“Well then don’t hurt me!” I yell back.

“I’m trying!”

“I don’t understand!”

“You don’t understand!”

“I know!”

“No, you don’t!”

“What?!”

“Just forget it!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Ugh!” I throw my hands up, exasperated. “Just…just…give me all you’ve got, I can take it.”

His beautiful hazel eyes flash and he flicks his disheveled raven hair out of his eyes and then…suddenly his delicate pink lips are smashed against mine. I don’t move, shocked. My eyes are open looking up into his closed ones, as his hands grip my tear stained cheeks and hold my lips to his.

He lets me go hotly and we both gasp for air. I eye him curiously, too stunned to move or say anything. His stupid football shoulder pads make his chest look ridiculously large. His silky black hair is perfectly tousled by his discarded helmet. His lips are slightly swollen and more red than normal, they are open and the right side is higher than the left in an incredibly sexy way I’ve never noticed before, his cute nose sits right between his shimmering hazel eyes that gaze at me expectantly.

And it’s then that I realize that I’m incredibly attracted to Gerard Way.

We both run at each other, grasping at our clothes and pulling our bodies tight together while our lips attach. I cherish the feeling of his winter wind-chapped lips against mine. But when his tongue darts out, I startle and pull away.

My body releases all the tension I was holding and suddenly Gerard’s holding me upright against the wall to keep me from falling. I study his gold flecked green eyes. He snakes a finger up and cleans up some of my smeared red lipstick.

After a while I ask my burning question. “What was that?”

“I believe kissing is an expression of affection, Lindsey.”

I nod slightly, thinking about what he just said. “Affection?” I ponder.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Well, now he’s just mocking me… “You matter-I mean…you…I don’t know.” Suddenly the mood changes a little. He sets me back on the ground not so lightly. I stumble and use the wall to balance.

“I just don’t understand.” I state. Now that the moment is over, this all seems very overwhelming. Gerard is not someone who I would have considered nice, let alone would have thought about kissing. He was terrible to me for years…

“You like me?” I ask.

“Do you?” He counters.

“Like you or like me?”

“Me.”

“No. I mean… I’m not sure. You…you were pretty terrible to me for a long time. I didn’t even know this part of you existed.”

“What part? You didn’t know that I had lips for kissing? What do you mean **_existed_**?”

“Ugh! You’re frustrating! I just never thought of you like that. That’s what I meant.”

“I did, think of you like that.” He says quietly. “I mean, no! No I didn’t!”

“So you just kissed me for no reason?”

“No. I had a reason.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I told you. You matter to me.” He looks down, then looks up and quickly rushes out. “I mean only sort of.”

“I matter to you sort of? Fuck, make up your goddamn mind before you start kissing someone. You know what actually? No. It’s not all up to you, you are terrible. You hurt me, really badly. I shouldn’t even be talking to you like this. I came to yell at you. To tell you that now I’m going to die because you wouldn’t fucking listen to me. I have nowhere to go but the streets and I’m sure I won’t last five minutes out there!"

Gerard flashes me a sorry look that quickly after turns into one of anger. “Well, you know what? I was just trying protect you, kinda…actually no. I don’t care. I don’t care if you die. I’m sure the whole school would have a fucking field day of celebration, you just don’t have the guts. You’re just a wimp, like your father. He could barely fight back, you two deserve each other. I’m sure you like it in some fucked up way.”

“Fuck you!” I shove him. His words sting more than all the beatings I’ve ever taken. _How dare he? Who the fuck does he think he is?_ “No, I don’t fucking like it, you piece of hurtful shit! Maybe I will kill myself, seeing as it’s bound to happen whether I do it or not. You ensured that.” I pick up my bag off the ground and turn to leave. “I hope you feel guilty for the rest of your pathetic life. I hope you burn in hell.” I flip him the bird, grab my bag and dash o ff.


	7. You Are Surrounding All My Surroundings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!NSFW!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its been so long, hope it was worth the wait...  
> xox  
> writing2savelives

Tears sting my eyes, but I try to swallow them down. Well, fuck. That didn’t go how I wanted or expected it to. I wander around aimlessly trying to hold back all my terrible thoughts before realizing I have nowhere to go. A café? Which one? I find my feet walking to one of my only places of comfort. I haven’t been here in a long time. It’s this amazing locally run art studio that gets new art every week.

I step inside and out of the frigid winter air. Fuck, I still have the same clothes on from yesterday. Now they smell and remind me of Gerard. That stupid fucker. I fucking hate him. _No, you don’t_ … a voice whispers. _You loved every kiss he gave you, everywhere his fingers touched_ … Ugh! I claw, frustrated, at my knotted hair.

Trying to get my mind off of Gerard and the thought of my razor in my bag I check out what kind of paintings the studio has this week. Oil paintings…ohhhh…if only I could afford the supplies… It seems to be an abstract themed week, with the walls decorated by varying sizes of canvases covered in bright interpretive colours.

I find myself lost in one medium sized one in the corner. The canvas’s original cream colour is completely disguised by twisting swirls of blue, and seafoam, turquoise and light green. It reminds me so much of the sea. Free, open and beautiful. All the things I want to be…

Suddenly the owner starts to shoo me out telling me that it’s closing time. Wow, I’ve been here for hours. Now comes the difficult task of finding somewhere to sleep. I could sleep at school like I did that horrible night, but frankly I don’t want anything to do with school right now. I guess that leaves the street. _Fucking great…_

I find a dark alleyway where I hopefully won’t be disturbed and settle down. I dig around in my bag trying to find extra shirt or something to lay my head on when I cut my hand on something. I pull it out and find it was only my razor. My razor _…_ I stare, paralyzed, at the small metal object in my hand. It seems so small yet so powerful. My father’s daunting words and Gerard’s hurtful ones ring in my head, … _get your bloody body off my carpet…have fun living on the streets like the whore you are...You have no life now, you will disappear and no one will remember or miss you,_ and Gerard’s, _I don’t care if you die. I’m sure the whole school would have a fucking field day of celebration, you just don’t have the guts. You’re just a wimp, like your father._ _I’m sure you like it in some fucked up way._

The razor in my hand catches the street light. _Beautifully ugly…just like me._

I hide the razor back in my bag, somehow managing to not use it and my mind wanders as sleep refuses me. I can’t feel my fingers anymore; they’re frozen solid and my legs which are only covered by fishnets are ice cold.

Gerard fucking confuses me. It used to confuse me when he would pick on me, I mean nobody liked me in the first place, I couldn’t understand why he would want to make me even less popular. Then I thought I was just unlucky, that maybe he was in a bad mood one day and I had done something without even knowing to piss him off and he had a grudge. Then I concluded that I was just his toy. He liked hurting me and I was an easy target. I would try to put up a fight, but quickly grew tired and just accepted my fate. But now…these last couple days, when he would hurt me I thought I could see this new regret in him. Ever since he found my drawing of him he started acting weird. Like it pained him to hurt me and then when he found out about my dad he became this protective, gentle weirdo that I’ve never seen before. I can’t say I didn’t like it. He could be really nice…especially when he was kissing me…Oh god…that whole situation. There’s no denying that I liked it, but why, I can’t tell. Whether I was craving human interaction or for someone to want me or that I was just so distressed that I couldn’t think clearly, I don’t know. I wonder what he thought of it. He said that I matter to him at first, but then after he seemed so confused. Oh man, confused…that seems to be the word of the day. One thing is for sure, I know that he’ll never kiss me again. He doesn’t like me, it was just an experiment. He was probably just horny…right?

 

~           

 

I wake to the sound of some homeless dude digging through the dumpster beside me. He catches my eye and scowls. _Hmph!_ I think to myself. Gathering my stuff up I make my leave.

When I’m around the corner I catch sight of myself in an apartment window. How many times do I have to look in the mirror disappointed before I finally accept my ugly fate? I will never be pretty or skinny or desirable. I will always be the pale skinned, stringy haired, wide hipped girl with fat thighs and a stupidly annoying butt chin. Licking my finger, I try to wipe away some of my two day old, smudged make-up. Then I dig out my signature red lipstick and paint my lips with it. Luckily I packed a hair brush, but it does nothing for the week old grease in my hair. When was the last time I had a shower? Yesterday, I was kissing Gerard, the Wednesday of the past week, I woke up in the hospital and went shopping with Frank and Jamia, the day before that Gerard found me at school and brought me to the hospital and the day before that my dad…r-raped me… So yeah, I haven’t had a shower in a long time since self-care certainly hasn’t been a top priority for these miserable 10 days. I was raped on a Monday. Today is...Friday.

My body still feels like utter shit, so I pull out that bottle of painkillers and the birth control pill and swallow them dry. Where do I go now? What time is it? Early morning probably, that means I woke up just in time for school. What a joy…

Reluctantly, I drag my feet to school with a warm coffee and muffin, spending a good chunk of my precious money. When I’m three quarters of the way there, the sidewalk becomes more crowded with other students on their way too. The big, daunting building comes into sight and now the urge to turn back and run away is almost unpreventable. People give me dirty looks and whispers rude things as I start to climb the stairs. _At least it’ll be warm inside…_ I just start to feel the heat warm my frozen face when I feel a rough hand on the small of my back and another clasp my hand. They spin me right around and suddenly I’m being guided back down the stairs and away from school.

When I look up to see the one and only, frustrating, confusing, and annoyingly sexy Gerard, I begin to struggle. All the mercy or affection is gone from his eyes. They stare straight ahead with purpose and are narrowed with anger. _This is not good._ He only grips me tighter as I twist and thrash, trying to free myself. He never looks down at me only forward, leading me at a quick pace away from school.

“Where are we going?!” I shout at him, exasperated.

“We need to talk.” He grunts back through clenched teeth.

I scoff. “Talk? I don’t want to talk with you. Let me go!”

He just chuckles, “You really don’t have much say in the matter.”

“Fuck you!” He just ignores me and keeps on walking, dragging me alongside.

I notice that we’re headed into the less nice side of town, where I live. I’m surprised when we actually pass my street, but instead head towards the good side of the bad part of town, if that makes any sense. _Where the fuck are we going? What the fuck does he want to talk about? Why is he dragging me all the way out here?_ A voice inside me whispers, _he’s going to kill you…that’s why he’s bringing you out here. He doesn’t want to talk…he’s a killer._

We’ve been walking fast for almost twenty minutes and I’m just about to make another escape attempt, when he stops in front of a medium tall apartment building. It looks quite dodgy and sketchy with a few broken windows and graffiti covered walls. I’m surprised when he pulls out a set of keys and unlocks the lobby door. His grip on me loosens, but he still forcefully pulls me into the building. It’s, to my surprise, actually fairly clean inside. Definitely still dirty and creepy though. We head over to the stairs and begin climbing three flights before we stop at the end of the hall at the door with the number 305 on it. To the right is 304 and to the left 303. Then there are only two more doors with 302 and 301 on them proceeding down the hall.

Again he uses the keys from his pocket to unlock the door and only then does it hit me that maybe this is his apartment. We step through the door straight into a mess of a living room. There are big windows facing opposite us looking down to what I suspect is the street. The walls are painted dark ugly coffee colour with faded parts where the sun has aged them.

This is not a place I want to be.

Gerard stalks solemnly to the windows and stares out, neglecting to take off his dirty white converse, not that it would make any difference to the already disgusting floor.

“What in the hell do you want Gerard? I’ve been having a pretty shitty few days thanks to you and I don’t intend to let you steal my Friday too,” I tell him firmly.

“Shut the fuck up Lindsey.” My words seem to activate something in him, waking him from his thoughts. He spins around harshly “This,” he motions between us, “this new way between us, is not going to work. I don’t know what has gotten into you,” he pauses, and then adds reluctantly, “or me, but I’m putting a stop to it. You need to start treating me with some respect like you used to.”

My tongue is quick to respond; my brain moving a million miles an hour. “Oh, right respect. That word, that seems to have disappeared from your vocabulary. I will start treating you with respect once you deserve some. I’ve had enough of your bullshit and you can hurt me all you want but I’m done being the victim of your cruelty and mind games. I’ve got enough of a fucked up brain for the two of us but I’ve finally got my head out of my ass and realized that what you’re doing, how you act, who you are, it’s wrong and it’s unacceptable.”

“Unacceptable? Oh, you want to talk unacceptable? Try your father raping you, me taking you to the hospital, caring for you and making sure that that sicko won’t hurt you again only to have you come screaming at me about how I’ve _really_ fucked you over now! That is un-fucking-acceptable!”

“You need a real big reality check, Gerard fucking Way! I do not give a flying fuck if you brought me to the hospital one time or if you bought me some nice new clothes. I had to put with a whole year and a half of your torment and that doesn’t go away with some few indirect apologies. In fact, it never goes away, but it is going to stop and you will just have to pray to fucking god that I don’t report you to the fucking police for all the criminal abuse you’ve inflicted!” My heart is racing and my skin is flushed. His hair is tousled from his violent fingers and his eyes are flaming, untamed infernos.

He takes a menacing step forward. “Oh, really? I’d like to see you try. You’re weak and broken.”

I mirror his dominance; challenging him. “You know that’s not true. You’re the one who’s broken. You’re responsible for your brother’s rape, you live in this crime ridden neighborhood and prey on me. Only a weak, sick person would torture someone as innocent as me.”

“Oh please,” his eyes flare and as he takes another step closer. “We both know you’re far from innocent.” His gaze travels slowly down my body, taking in my signature mini skirt and fishnet tights. I should feel self-conscious, but something in me loves the hungry look in his eyes.

“You’re disgusting,” I spit, although my tone disobeys me, sounding far from mad.

“Oh, really?” he asks again, taking another step towards me.

“Yes. I hate you.” I challenge him, again, mirroring his action; testing his advances.

“So do I. I hate the way you refuse to bend to anyone’s demands. I hate it when you test me and the look in your eyes as you try to conceal your fear. I hate it when you come to school with bruises that I didn’t give you and how it tears me up inside.”

 The room suddenly feels hot and my warm sweater seems extensive. “Well, boo hoo for poor little Gerard Way. I don’t give a shit that I hurt your precious little feelings and your precious heart. I don’t give a single fuck to hear that it worried your pretty pale face.” I feel like I’m trying convince myself instead of him.

He swiftly closes the gap between us, stopping just an inch in front of me. His warm breath blows down to me. I defiantly tilt my head up to meet his gaze full on.

“You. Wish.”

His simple comeback shatters my strong front. I try desperately to come up with something to shoot back, but my breathe comes in short and my mind seems to have shut off.

“I don’t care about your constantly depressed feelings. I pay no mind to your beautiful yet forever frowning face. I ignore your bright red lipstick, your raven hair and how well they contrast.” He takes another step forward, bringing us closer, if that’s even possible. We’re practically sharing the same air; exchanging the same oxygen and carbon in a weirdly intimate way. I feel heat radiating off him, as if I need to be any hotter right now. “I never notice your creamy thick thighs and the way they catch everyone’s eye. All because I. Do. Not. Give. A. Shit. About. You.” I’m so caught by his words that I miss his hand suddenly placed on my hip; fingernails digging in slightly.

My eyes are glued to his blown hazel orbs. They lure me like a sailor to a siren; trapped even if wanted to get away.

 But, I don’t. This connection is not one-sided.

My hand, like a flint striking a rock, stokes the flames between us when placed of his arm. Sparks fly, my bag falls unceremoniously to the ground. Our lips attach, acting like long separated twins; desperate to make up for their time apart.

  One warm hand slides around to my thigh, guiding my leg up to his hip. My once depressed, slow moving neutrons fire up. The combination of his wet lips tracing down my neck to my collar bones and his fingers slowly inching up my raised thigh to squeeze my ass is as torturous as it is pleasurable. I can feel his teeth nip at the dip right above my left collar bone. It goes straight to my panties, striking another shot of desperation through me.

Horrible memories dance before my eyes. Clothes. Clothes off. I need to see his body, not my father’s. That’s all I’m able to think right now. I need him and only him. I want him to fuck the memories right out of me. I want his fingers to replace all the invisible marks from my father. I need them to leave me alone and I need his help.

I fist his already rumpled hair and bring his face back to mine. My eyes shoot open in surprise when his frosty hands slide under my sweater and pull it up over my head. His eyes flare with lust and excitement at my newly uncovered flesh.

I do the same to him; shedding his jean jacket, the most bulky item of clothing keeping us apart.

When our lips meet again, there’s a hungry need for each other behind the kiss. I’m fed up with our clothes; I _need_ to feel his skin on mine, his skin _inside_ me. While he starts, no doubt, covering my neck with hickeys, I scramble to pull his fleece lined hoodie and Jawbreaker tee over his head, which proves difficult when he’s reluctant to leave my neck, even for a second.

“Gee…” I whine. He complies, giving me a lopsided grin, once it’s over his head, that heats my core. He notices, pulls me close by the waist and presses a hand teasingly against my clit.

“Ah…!” A shocked whimper rushes through me. “Don’t tease me.” I command sternly, regaining my dominance by returning the favour, earning a delicious groan from him.

At the same time, we both reach for the waist bands of our lower garments. He wins first, tugging my tight skirt off my hips and circling an arm around my waist, making me step out of the discarded garment.

My hands, shaking with desperation, claw at his frustrating belt as he selfishly ignores my efforts, declining to help and instead opts to kiss a trail down my shoulder, nudging the collar of my Green Day tee that Frank gifted me with his pixie nose. Finally I drop his belt to join our other clothes on the floor.

“Lyn-z…” He growls into the hollow of my collarbone.

“Fuck, Gee, help me goddamit,” I command, breathily, caught off guard by my awarded nickname.

“Mhmmm…” He releases my neck so I can fully undo his pants. I sink to my knees to mouth his clothed cock. He moans sinfully and tangles my hair in his fist, turning me on incredibly. Pulling down his boxers, I take him slowly into my mouth. I have no clue what I’m doing but, judging by his groan and bucking hips, I’d say I’m doing something, good or not is to be determined. I swipe my tongue up the underside of his dick where a large vein pushes back against me.

Nightmare visions of my father flash before my blown eyes staring up at Gerard while he uses my mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to block out the images and focus on Gerard.

He seems to notice my sudden dip in mood and strokes my cheek while comforting me with gentle words. “Hey, hey, look at me. Gerard. I’m here. You’re with me; Gerard.” Rage shoots through me at the thought of my father, constantly ruining-my life even when not present. “Let’s just slow d-.”

I cut him off, removing him from my mouth. “No.” Gerard. I need him. Now.

He seems reluctant but my mouth around him again seems to convince him and he goes to pull me up muttering, “Fuck, I fucking love your mouth.”

“God Gee, j-just fucking fuck me. C’mon, I need your cock in me. Now.” I whine shamelessly like a little kid begging for candy. He kisses me forcefully, probably bruising my lips, something I find myself loving.

“Yes, god, yes. Harder…” I claw fiercely at his hips, trying to bring us closer, and grind onto his hard member. He grips my ass tight in his warm hands, adding to my boiling inner core. He goes to rip my fishnets off but I stop him, remembering that I have a very limited amount of decent clothing for this extremely cold winter. We fumble together with my fishnets, both our shoes and underclothes. He’s careful to avoid my left breast while groping and squeezing my clothed chest, aware of the healing from the cuts I carved.

I sigh and realize we’ve migrated further into the room. All limbs and lips, clashing and fighting through our delirious, lust-filled minds. 

“Oh, god Lyn-z…” He mutters in between kisses.

“Yes, yes. Say my name… I-I’m not h-his…” I mumble not really making sense but just kind of letting words flow from my mouth.

“No.” He states firmly, agreeing with me and trying to help. “You’re Lindsey. You’re your own person, acting r-right now with your own consent.”

“Mhmm,” I’m starting to become putty in his hands. Melting into his every touch, we’re both desperate for each other, practically trying to meld our bodies into one. “Gee…c-condom…” I suddenly remember that important tool.

“Oh god…” he reluctantly pulls away and strains trying to reach a basket under the coffee table while still holding onto me. When he comes back up, I see that he neglected to actually put the protection on, instead, apparently, electing to return to me before any more lost time. Man, he’s almost more desperate than me.

I let him take the lead. His hands reach around to the back of my legs, sliding seductively up to my thighs then my ass, until he’s full-on gripping it, holding me tight against him. We crash against the wall, me underneath him, kissing passionately. I rake my hands through his silky hair, tugging and pulling softly which earns satisfying groans of pleasure from him. His strong arms flex as he lifts me off the ground, guiding my legs to wrap around his defined hips. Our mouths move perfectly in sync, pressing hard against each other. His are silky soft and smooth, yet his kisses are hard and fast, like he’s dying of thirst and I’m his water. Suddenly his member moves from poking against my stomach as he lines himself up with my entrance.

We pull away and stare into each other’s eyes, silently checking that we’re both ready. His eyes are blown wide in a savage-like manner and I nod furiously, whispering into the velvet shell of his ear, “Fuck me.”

I moan obscenely and press my hands firmly into his back as he finally impales me on his hard cock. His growl is fiercely animalistic, breath gliding across my collarbone. My hands travel up around his neck into the back of his hair, raking through it and then slide back to his shoulder blades. I pull my arms back and slide them under his arms to his hips, squeezing and releasing as waves of pleasure wash over me.

I’ve never felt so alive. It’s like my body is electric, in a good way. My pain has vanished from my earlier beating and pathetic excuse of a night’s rest, instead a foreign, but pleasant, tingling feeling spreads over my skin.

“Oh, fuck, harder, _harder!_ ” He complies, starting a rough pace.

My head falls back against the wall, his leaning in to nuzzle the crook of my neck; a place I’m learning he loves just as much as I do. Tiny teeth nip at my skin.

Our sweat covered thighs slap together loudly, my head knocks against the wall painfully, but I don’t have the energy, concentration or strength to care.

He’s completely in control and for some reason I love it. All thoughts of my mistakes, all my injuries, all my sadness, retreat to the back of my mind. I let the sensation of his thrusts, _in and out, in and out_ , consume me. For now Gerard is there for me. Whether in a healthy way or not, I don’t know and don’t really care. All I know is that in this moment, right here, having sex with Gerard, is what I need. His hands digging into the fat of my thighs and his breathy grunts of pleasure in my ear, is all I want, all I have. And, I think, that’s okay.

The pulsing, intense heat his cock is doing to my core is the best feeling I’ve ever felt. So what if we’re using each other? So what if what we’re doing is _exactly_ the wrong kind of therapy I need? Why start caring about my wellbeing now, after 17 years of abuse?

“Mmmm, fuck, keep making those beautiful sounds.” His words have the opposite reaction out of me though. Brought out of my train of thoughts, I worry I’m being too loud and try to suppress my moans and groans. He laughs against my skin and seems to take it as a challenge.

He licks my jaw down to my collarbone where he settles for a bit, choosing a spot and focusing on it, biting and sucking, licking every so often. I feel the blood rise to that spot and I know I’ll have a huge hickey, but I remain defiant and don’t make any loud sounds. He groans and moves onto my earlobe. Caught off guard, I gasp as he takes it between his teeth, rolling it around and sucking.

“C’mon, baby…for me.” He whispers seductively. I can’t help it; I give in and let out a sinful moan. “Yes…so goddamn sexy…” He sighs. His hands travel back down to my thighs squeezing harshly, and if he hadn’t already left marks, I sure they’ll make an appearance now, but they’re bruises I find myself wanting to bear. His mouth slowly moves back to mine but I get impatient and use my hands to guide it back, gripping his cheeks. He chuckles against my lips. I arch my back, craving to feel closer to him and he gets the message. Slipping one hand around to the small of my back and one supporting my ass, he walks us over to a disgusting looking couch that actually isn’t as uncomfortable as it looks.

He lays down, setting me to rest on top of his sweaty torso. It’s not as good of an angle, but we’re both already too close to the end to need _that_ much more to finish. I lean up for a moment to pull my shirt and bra off. The feeling of us being chest to chest is a lot more comforting than I would’ve anticipated.

His upwards thrusts start to stutter; I know he’s coming to the end soon. Snaking a hand between our bodies, I rub my clit, wanting to finish with him.

“Gee, please... Say me name,” words roll off my tongue without even thinking. Begging and pleading, demanding…I have no clue what I mean.

Nonetheless, he answers, “Lindsey,” he breathes my name like it’s a work of art. “Oh, Lyn-z…”

“Ger…gee… Ger-ARD!” My finish happens all the sudden; my name on his lips obviously had more of an effect on me than I had anticipated.

He follows right after me, groaning low and long into my hair. I feel the burst of his seed shoot into the condom.

His hips stay pushed against mine, rising off the couch slightly, while the ecstasy consumes us both. Slowing they lower and we both breathe a drawn out sigh. My face buries into the welcoming spot between his muscular shoulders and his neck. His stubbly chin is tucked atop my head, his slowing breath blowing cool air across my neck to ghost over my naked back.

A sudden shiver wracks my body, the cold atmosphere finally settling on my drying sweat. Despite my reluctance to leave his warm body even for a second, he lifts me by my hips and slips out of me, then lays me back down, ties the condom off, sets it down and then wraps his arms around me.

I take back my earlier claim, that his thrusts were the best feeling I’d ever encountered, this, this right here, just laying against Gerard’s warm chest with his strong arms encompassing me, this takes the cake.

Even though it’s still early morning, my eyelids feel heavy. A satisfied, content energy fills the room. I shuffle down his body slightly to stretch my legs between his, with our hips aligned despite the fact that my legs are longer. One arm reaches up and entangles itself in his hair, the other is tucked underneath his hold. My head rests, again, right under his chin.

I feel him move slightly before a warm blanket is dropped atop our knotted bodies.

A gentle kiss against my forehead is the last thing I feel before my mind gives out and the bad night sleep I had yesterday catches up with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? I rewrote this chapter about 3 times but I'm finally happy with the end product.  
> Give me feedback, do you guys like my story at all?  
> xox  
> writing2savelives


	8. Take The Pain, Ignite It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those I told there would be an update in a few days--SURPRISE. It's tonight. Let me know what you think.

_When the darkness envelopes you,_

_I’ll be there,_

_Waiting._

_“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” She screams at the taunting voice._

_The shadow surges. The dark smoke pushes itself down her esophagus, into her lungs._

_When you become the darkness,_

_You’ll be there,_

_Waiting._

_Nooooooooooooooo_ , “No.” Nightmarish delusions pull-no, _drag_ -me from my slumber. It’s just routine now: the sudden blinding light, the overwhelming disorientation, the pain…

Warm, comforting arms. Around me. Holding me tight to his chest. Mikey wasn’t kidding when he said Gerard was a loud snorer, I’m just glad I fell asleep first otherwise I don’t know I would’ve been able to.

Untangling my limbs from his is nearly an Olympic sport. Looking around the small room, my memory starts up, tracing our littered pile of clothing to where we ended up. Fast asleep on the couch. Together.

This is too much to handle all at once.

Without Gerard’s inner furnace and the blanket keeping me warm, I shiver. Without thinking I pull his hoodie on. It feels right and wrong to put on _his_ sweater. _His_.

The bathroom is a complete mess. I honestly can’t think of any other way you could make it messier. Maybe flood it…

After my pee, and after wiping the toilet off _before_ my pee, I check myself in the mirror. My sex tousled hair resembles Courtney Love’s after a rave, with Donita Sparks’ trademark smudged eyeliner. It’s not the worst look ever, it’s probably something I’d wear out, with my red lipstick. Gerard’s hoodie is a dress on me, but I kind of like that. It’s got one of those kangaroo pouch pockets with…a pack of smokes and a lighter. _Damn, a smoke sounds really good right now._

One couch, rectangular stained coffee table and a large armchair occupy the living room. The couch holds a still sleeping Gerard, with the armchair parallel to it, pushed against the wall by one of the windows.  It’s there, on the back of the chair that I settle. My bare legs dangle between the wall and the chair.

The icy December air sucks the smoke out of my warm mouth, through the open window and out into the world I hate so much. The setting sun basks the room in a faint yellow glow. How can this life be so beautiful and ugly at the same time?

How did I end up here, _exhale_ , with Gerard?

Where the fuck do I go now? _Sharp inhale-fuck, too sharp._ A harsh cough climbs up my throat.

The sex was amazing, there’s no point even trying to deny that. It was good. It was great, to be held. Just to be held. Just, _just_ … Part of me wants to climb back under the blanket with him. Maybe he’d make that cute little satisfied breath, yeah, _that one_. But part of me knows that’s the wrong thing to do. It’ll just complicate things even more, and God knows I do not need any more complications.

He probably wants nothing to do with me, though. Maybe he’ll wake up and this little debate will solve itself. I’ll just go on with my life- _ha. Ha. Ha._ My life, good joke…

Somehow another cigarette ends up between my teeth. And another one. And another. I need to get myself some of these things when I leave, they’re a godsend. A 3.99$ sticker is stuck to the back of the pack.

I’d need to get a job… Where? _Inhale, exhale._

Fuck, I’m thinking too much.

I let the sweet rhythm of _inhale, exhale_ take over my mind; surrendering to my subconscious.

It’s funny to think that right now, somewhere in the world, someone is having the best time of their life… I guess I’m not having the worst time of my life-I think the rape wins that medal-but it’s certainly not ideal. When has anything in my life ever been ideal?

Catching sight of the dark of purple bruises on my thighs sends a warm sensation through my chest. Can I ever forget that this happened? Do I want to?

“Friday Night Pizza Night!!! Gerard, c’mon, we already started making the crust, where are you?”

A loud voice scares the shit out of me, shocking my senses and I tumble backwards onto the floor. _Fuck, my back…_

“Jesus Christ…” I swear under my breath.

“Lindsey?” A familiar voice questions.

I stand on shaky legs, the lit cigarette still between my teeth. “Frank?”

“Yeah, sorry for barging in, it looks like you were…busy.” His voice ends on a higher note, like he’s asking a question instead of a statement.

I suddenly remember my attire, or lack thereof. A blush brightens my cheeks and I tug the hem of Gerard’s large hoodie down, trying to cover myself more. “Um, nah, it’s fine. I was just leaving actually.”

“No! Don’t leave! I mean, as I said, it’s Friday Night Pizza Night! You should stay, we have lots of **homemade** pizza…it’s really good…” He taunts me with the idea of delicious, fresh pizza. _Fuck_ …

“Well… No, I really should get out of here.” I start to gather my scattered clothes, embarrassment burning my cheeks. Although, this proves hard to do when I have no underwear on and an acquaintance is staring at me.

Frank realizes and turns around, muttering a polite ‘sorry’.

Finally after I locate the basics, bra and panties, a sleepy sigh comes from the couch. _Fuck._

“Lindsey, hey. You’re awake, sorry I slept so long.” I spin around to face him and against my consent, butterflies tickle my stomach. The sight of him still half asleep, tucked under that fleece blanket with a cute little smile, his mouth slightly higher on the right side, just melts my innards.

I’m frozen in place, unsure of what to say, where to move or how to react. Frank’s still in the room, I’m half naked and Gerard has an ‘I just had sex and I’m happy’ look written all over his face.

All I manage is a weak little, “Hey.” I’m smiling even though there’s nothing to be happy about in this awfully awkward situation.

Frank suddenly decides this is a great time to make himself known. “Hey, buddy.” He turns to face Gerard.

“Hey, Frank…” Now it’s Gerard’s turn to be join the awkward party.

 “I was just trying to convince Lindsey here to come to Friday Night Pizza Night, but I’m gonna go help Jamia in the kitchen again, see you soon?” Luckily Frank takes the lead in starting this inevitable conversation.

“Yeah, sure.” Frank then slips out the door conveniently, making me green with envy. I ask myself once again, _“How on earth did I get myself into this situation?”_

When the door closes, Gerard and I lock eyes. After a few seconds, his face relaxes; the creases in his forehead smooth, his mouth ceases its frown, his eyes soften and they finally break the intense gaze we held. Holding the blanket over his privates, he leans forward and reaches for his boxer briefs.  

I take the hint and turn back toward the window to allow him privacy. After I pull on the panties that are still in my hand, I take another drag of the almost forgotten cigarette between my lips and admire the frost covered rooftops.

Warm arms encompass my waist and I involuntarily relax into them. Gerard rests his chin on my right shoulder and pulls me back into him.

“You’re wearing my sweater,” he states.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” I try to move away from him so I can pull it over my head but he refuses to release his hold on me.

His right arm snakes around my shoulder to pluck the cancer stick from my lips. He takes a long pull, holds the smoke for three seconds then lets it out through the open window. He offers it back to me so I turn my head sideways, opening my lips for him to place the shortening stem of tobacco between. I take a long pull like he did before and try to mimic his technique by letting the smoke cool in my mouth.

The cigarette is practically all ash by now, so he stubs it out and places it with the other butts in the tobacco graveyard. “Why don’t you come to Friday Night Pizza Night?”

“Because…” Whatever excuse I was going to use dies on my lips. _Why **don’t** I go? _

“Mhmmm?” He ponders with an upturned right lip. “Do you have plans?”

“No, but that’s not the point,” I reply.

He spins my hips so we face each other. “Then, what _is_ the point?”

I push away from him, somewhat irritated suddenly. “I just, I _can’t_ …”

“I just don’t understand why you insist on refusing a good time even when it’s knocking down your door!” I flinch at his raised voice. He looks down sheepishly. “Look, I know this is weird, the whole you me ‘hanging out’ thing, but, what if you just let that go for now and come have pizza with some people who are open to being your friend?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“You could.”

“I’ve already overstayed my welcome, er, whatever this was.” Sidestepping him, I bend to gather my discarded clothing.

“No, Lindsey, you haven’t. I...I want you to stay.”

“No, you really don’t.”

He grabs my wrist, spinning me back towards him and to my surprise, I do not flinch or fear he will strike me. The simple act of getting me to face him is just that; a simple, gentle gesture.

“How do you know what I want?” He whispers.

I draw a blank. The fact is I don’t; I’m just going off past experience.

“I really don’t understand why you want me to come, though.” He knows he’s winning this debate, but I’m not sure I’m even trying to battle him.

“Don’t question it.” His lips are very enticing. A perfect shade of blush pink.

“Okay…” I whisper back. The grin that lights up his face is infectious and when our lips meet, we’re both smiling.


End file.
